Harry Potter and the Golden Dragon
by Teresoul
Summary: UP FOR ADOPTION!
1. Life Flies By, In The Blink Of An Eye

A\N: Here we go, another story. Review people. It motivates the writer. It makes him or her give you more. It inform's him what he's doing right and what he's doing wrong. So, review. Right before you read. Thank you.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the Harry Potter franchise, and i make no money from these writings. I do it only for the fun of it.

Chapter One: Life Flies By, In The Blink Of An Eye

===== Fall, Year 2172 =====

The night was dark and the wind outside was howling, making the autumn leaves fly scattered in the air, following the whim of the wind. Through the windstorm and darkness, a tall frame walked steadily, if slowly, hunched over a bit and leaning on a cane. It was an old man, and if a young teenage boy would see him walking outside, he would have sworn that the man was, like, two hundred. And, the teenage boy would be right. He was dressed in a light brown suit, with black shoes and sporting an ordinary wooden cane. Dark green eyes shined with triumph even as they squinted in the dark in an effort to stay clean from the dust the wind picked up and threw in the old man's face. The tapping of his cane was barely heard over the whaling of the harsh autumn wind.

Finally the tormented body of the old man reached its final destination, the empty and old, but still strong hangar, an old beat up thing, with rusty tin panels that were obviously patched up again as soon as they broke and lost their functionality and effectiveness at staving off the harsh weather. Finger bones made of stainless steel gently grasped the nickel coated doorknob of the polished oak door, a door which stood out like sore thumb on the tin made World War II hangar. But the inhabitant of the hangar didn't even consider decoration as something to be troubled with. Indeed, the door could be pink with neon green lights saying "Striptease Bar" for all he cared, as long as the door prevented the dust from the blowing wind to enter his humble, if spacious abode. Nobody besides him ever saw, heard, felt, smelled or tasted the hangar, or even knew it was there, for he had paced many wards on it to hide it from the senses of every living or sentient thing but himself.

The old man closed the door after he got inside and propped his cane against the wall, before lowering the big iron lever with a rubber grip on the wall next to the misplaced door, making the sixty neon lights on the ceiling of the hangar to flicker on. He turned around, shook his head at the only light at the far end of the open space that just refused to stop flickering, and sighed. He went to the water tap on his left and turned the water on, letting it pool in his hands before slapping it gently to his face, letting it wash away all the dust the wind kindly plastered to his tired face.

After cleaning up a bit, he turned the water off and slowly proceeded to the biggest part of the hangar: the library. It was a monstrous thing, holding perhaps fifty thousand books. Nearly five hundred shelves from floor to ceiling housed almost all of his prized possessions. But the strangest thing of all was that not a single one of them was a detective novel, or a sci-fi book, or a romance novel or a poetry collection, or even a science book, for he didn't bother to read ordinary books. All of them were on _magic_. There were some on alchemy and potions and herbology, but the old man didn't, and never liked those subjects.

He liked to use _his_ magic, watching it shape and form the world around him, as opposed to battling with a wild tropical plant for a few potions ingredients, or sitting and stirring a potion for hours on end, when you could buy most of them in a potions shop, or better yet, most of the potion's effects could be achieved with a spell that only needed a second to cast. His disinterest in alchemy was only halfhearted, because it was a dying art. Spells had become more versatile over the past six hundred years, so in most cases it didn't pay of to spend months of research to make an item when most of the items that you could make could be conjured and then enchanted with the exact same properties in less than ten seconds, even though items made by alchemy were permanent, while the conjured ones lasted from one hour to one week, depending on the power put behind the conjuration and enchantment.

But the library thrived with books on subjects such as transfiguration, charms, enchanting, arithmancy, ancient runes, spell crafting, warding and ward breaking, healing, defense against the dark arts, dark arts and rituals. Almost all of these books were written in the style of dictionaries, meaning that there was information on the incantation, the wand movement, and the effects of the spell, statistics on power drainage, but little to no information on the crafting of the spell, only the crafter's name and the year that it was invented.

He also had very little books of the more obscure arts such as legilimency, occlumency, necromancy, soul magic, windlass magic and battle magic. This was not due to the fact that he disliked the subjects or the fact that they were useless, quite the contrary, to him these were the most useful magics one could find on the face of the Earth. He had so little books on them because the books were very rare and all of the arts were obscure, meaning a very small amount of people actually knew that they existed or that the effects they had were possible, so it was hard to find a book on something that was considered a myth in the Wizarding World. He was proud of the thought that of the fifty thousand books, five of them were his own works, though he never dared publish them, or even show them to someone. The in depth study of more than one hundred years of his life was laid on the pages of five books.

"89 by H.J.P." was an in depth study on occlumency, which elevated the art on a whole new lever, perhaps even twenty levels above all the known facts about occlumency and the workings of the human mind. It was known that the ordinary human mind used from seven to ten percent of its total brain power, depending on the IQ of the human. Wizards, through the use of the art called occlumency, could raise that percentage from 0.5 percent at a novice to two percent at a master of occlumency. He had studied his own human mind and its workings and succeeded in raising the total percentage of used brainpower up to a staggering 89 percent, hence the title. The consequence was a godlike memory and thought speed. He remembered each event of his life after the years of his "mind boost" with a surreal precision. He knew exactly how every curse he ever experienced felt like, every kiss, every bed partner he ever had, he remembered every scent, every color and contour and texture on their body, how they felt, how they tasted. He remembered every book he read after his "boost", every word in it, every spelling or grammatical mistake, and even every smudge and imperfection that appeared in the print, as the Wizarding World still used the presses from Guttenberg's time.

"Center by H.J.P." was a book he wrote about the magical cores of the wizards and witches. Ways of increasing their capacity, making them store more magic; increasing their density, making the spells leave the wand and travel faster; and increasing the diameter of the magical canals which ran in the centers of the nerves, allowing you to put more magic behind the spells, but decrease the speed that the spells traveled at. He had even found the ideal proportion between the size of the core, its density, and the diameter of the magical channels, which was 90:900:1, allowing him to fire nearly nine hundred of your strongest spells at high projectile speed before he passed out of exhaustion. Also, most importantly, there were many different techniques to manipulate the magical core.

Such was the "Icarus" technique, a technique of moderate difficulty, which allowed one to manipulate his core into growing five tentacles of magic - without the use of rituals or potions - and wrap those tentacles around the spine and each arm and leg. This way, one could manipulate one's core to rise up in the air and fly around, and because of its tentacles, the body would lift up along with it. Many wizards have tried before to fly without the aid of broom, potions or rituals, but all their attempts resulted in their chest ripping open and their core flying out and then fading as the wizard died. The only one known to achieve flight was Voldemort, but even he had used a dark and forbidden ritual which involved sacrificing a human and eight different kinds of birds. He called it the "Icarus" technique because one was always supposed to be careful of his magical reserves, which, if low enough, could cause the levitation and flight to stop and make the wizard fall to the ground, and injure himself or even die on impact.

The most innovative and difficult core technique to achieve was the "Brush with Death", a technique where one sprouted as much tentacles from his core as possible and held them sprouting from his body akin to a cylindrical hairbrush. When the practitioner was fired at with a lethal curse, one needed to only rotate his magical core at a speed the rotation of the planet, creating a sort of "magical" gravity field around him which affected only magic, a difficult thing to achieve, and when the curse reached the tentacles, it would rotate around the practitioner and swerve back at the caster.

The rest of the books were grimoires, "Grim Vol. 1 by H.J.P.", "Grim Vol. 2 by H.J.P.", and "Grim Vol. 3 by H.J.P.", which were collections of all the useful spells he found and learned on his travels around the world, but couldn't be found in any book. Most of them could be cast with a wand, but a good part of them required wandless magic, a field he was proficient at. The fact remained that most of the spells that wizards in Britain used were designed to be used with a wand, and only a few of them could be used without one, such as the levitation spell, the summoning spell, the banishing charm and the "arresto momentum" spell. Any other spell that gave a visual representation of the magic, such as the stunner and binding spell had to be used by a focus, preferably a wand. It wasn't strange that a wizard in Britain that could use wandless magic was rarity, for most of the spells they tried were designed for a wand, and were impossible to cast without one.

The old man snapped out of his reverie and reached in the inner pocket of his jacket from which he removed a small booklet, not more than fifty pages. He walked to a desk that was situated in the middle of the maze of bookshelves and sat down before placing the booklet on it. His hand - which was made of stainless steel pieces that assembled and looked like a skeletons hand, made hollow and through them running the nerves of a dead dragon in order to allow the magic to flow through the hand - reached out and turned the desk lamp on, illuminating the cover of the small booklet. The other hand, the left one, which was a normal wrinkled old hand reached out to the corner of the desk and grasped the reading glasses, before promptly placing them on his triumphant dark green eyes. He looked at the cover, tracing a metallic index finger over the Mandarin characters, which looked to be handwritten in black paint with a brush.

"Strange people, those Chinese them, holding firmly on their history and tradition while still moving boldly into the modern world." mussed Harry aloud while admiring the complex characters on the book, written in perfect calligraphy. His metallic hand reached inside the left sleeve of the worn brown jacket and removed his wand - twelve inches of black willow with a core of basilisk and dragon fangs. The Chinese shopkeeper told him that it would be a great wand for defensive and offensive casting, though it would not be lacking in any other area. The centuries of magical poison running through those fangs had made them an excellent funnel for magic. He waved his hand over the book, muttering an incantation, and the beautiful Chinese characters were replaced by a dull English script which read "The Legend of the Golden Dragon".

He slowly opened the book cover and quickly read through the pages, taking him only twenty minutes to finish the fifty pages because of his highly advanced occlumency. He took the translation charm off the booklet and sunk back on the chair, his green eyes troubled and indecisive. If the legend in the book was true, then the Wizarding World would change forever. But that wasn't what troubled his mind. The Wizarding world should have changed a long time ago, but he had been young and stupid, and didn't realize that killing Voldemort would not be the end of trouble for the Wizarding World. As always, after the defeat of a Dark lord, a lull of peace and happiness followed; a lull which lasted from twenty five to fifty years, in his case only twenty seven. He remembered the day of the defeat of the Dark Lord Voldemort as the saddest and most confusing day in his life. He got his heart broken that day, multiple times.

===== Summer, Year 1998 =====

Harry walked to the body of the Dark Lord and crouched down. There lay the purpose of his overly dramatic life, finally dead and finished. He put his hand on Tom's neck, and felt relieved that there was no pain in his scar, before feeling for a pulse. There was none. He stood up and walked to the Elder Wand and picked it up. He was the master of Death now, and he didn't even know what it meant. It was a stupid title, for one couldn't be a master of Death when Death took everything dear one had. Family, friends, everything. He knew that he wasn't truly immortal, for all it would take was a simple "expelliarmus" to strip his immortality away. He was oddly disinterested in immortality and mortality, but never the less acknowledged the wand, the stone and the cloak as powerful items not to be trifled with, so he put the elder wand in his back pocket, intending to use it until he got his own wand, and after that hide it from the world.

He looked around the great hall of Hogwarts, and knew that he couldn't come back here anymore. The plan was to get rid of Voldemort and go back to school, but he couldn't in good conscience stay inside the castle where everything ended, and eat in the hall where some of his year mates were gravely injured or outright killed. His heart constricted at the knowledge that Remus, the last link to his parents was gone. Dead.

He needed Ginny. She could make him feel alive again, take the sorrow and pain and replace it happiness and pleasure, make him remember that there are things worth living for. He looked around the hall, where Healers in lime green robes were inspecting and healing the wounded, while ministry Obliviators walked around and wiped the memories of the youngest children, trying to relieve their traumas, while another team of Obliviators levitated the black bags in which the dead were placed and took them outside of the castle and wards in order to portkey them to the magical morgue.

He needed Ginny, his mind informed him. He sighed again and walked out of the Great Hall, looking for her. He didn't find her with the rest of the Weaslys out on the lawns of Hogwarts, where they were hugging and crying over the death of Fred, always supportive, even in grief. He offered his condolences to Mrs. Weasly before he walked away, still looking for Ginny. After half an hour of fruitless search, he remembered to consult the Marauders Map, and found her dot sitting in an abandoned classroom on the third floor. He hurried inside the castle and climbed the moving staircases, before finally standing before the classroom door and thinking rapidly about what he should say to Ginny to make amends for the year of torture he left her behind for.

"Ginny, I was thinking, now that this is all over with, would you like to be my girlfriend again?" a male voice asked from inside the classroom.

"I thought you would never ask." Ginny said before a silence settled in Harry's ears.

Brow knit in confusion, he opened the door slightly and peeked inside with one eye. What he saw devastated him. His eyes widened and his vision blurred after he saw Ginny, sitting on a desk, her legs wrapped around Michael Corner, a Ravenclaw in his year and ex boyfriend of Ginny, and kissing him passionately with closed eyes.

He felt his blood rush in his ears, and actually heard it whooshing up the arteries in his brain, trying to supply it with enough oxygen and energy to think this through. He felt numb, so he backed away and leaned on the wall next to the door and slid down, sat on the cold stone floor with his knees to his chest and his back to the wall, hands wrapped around his legs as he stared unseeing at a painting of three Vikings merrymaking and drinking wine.

"_I'll be waiting for you…_" echoed through his mind, and he realized that she didn't wait for him to save the world. She had moved on, weather it was just now or she had a relationship throughout the school year, while he was out trying to save the world, hungry and cold and without a wand to comfort him. Did she even like him at all? Did she even care for him? Was she just fascinated by the Boy-Who-Lived? It seemed like he would never know. And he didn't know what he should do now.

Going to Hermione was not an option, even though he admired and fancied her. She and Ron were an item, and he saw Ron fall in love with her, so he didn't want to break that or cause Ron to get insecure of his relationship with Hermione. Plus, Ron was now grieving for Fred, and he needed Hermione more than Harry did. So he decided to do what any self respecting single male would do in his situation. Get sloshed. "_That would work._" he thought before getting up on his aching feet and leaving the third floor corridor and Ginny behind. He stayed in Grimmauld Place for two days getting drunk out of his mind in misery, breaking chairs and glasses and windows whenever his drunken temper got the best of him. Kreacher cleaned up after each and every tantrum of his, bless his little soul. Of course, it didn't work.

Thankfully, he was sober and had his wits about when he went to Remus' and Fred's funerals or he would have caused a scene. After the funerals he visited Gringotts Bank and claimed his full inheritance. He found that he owned several properties, including Potter Manor in Scotland, the cabin in Godric's Hollow which got destroyed that Halloween night sixteen and a half years ago, Grimmauld Place and a flat in London. He also found out he owned several million galleons, two Libraries, one in Grimmauld Place known as the Black Library and one in Potter Manor known as the Potter Library, and many priceless heirlooms, relics and items, although he was hardly the richest man in the Wizarding World, let alone the whole world. Never the less, he could live with those money and properties comfortably his whole life without having to lift a finger.

He didn't know what he wanted to do with his life, because becoming an Auror would be next to useless, having in mind that he would only be used by the Ministry of Magic as a poster boy. So for now, he just moved in Potter Manor, a place that was nice, homely and clean, even though it was too big for just one man to live in. It had three house elves that had welcomed him and told him that they had kept the manor in a pristine condition in expectation of his arrival. The place had an atmosphere, and aura about it that just didn't allow you to fall in an aggressive depression, so when he got drunk there he just cried and felt very sad.

After two weeks of getting drunk alone or getting drunk in muggle discos and picking up young single women for one night stands (for which he used the flat in London for), he decided in one of his rare sober moments that he wanted to teach magic. But teaching magic in Hogwarts required a Mastery in at least one subject, the subject you want to teach. Plus, he hadn't even finished his education yet, having not taken his seventh year or his N.E.W.T.s. So he slowly started to bury himself in studying after he had acquired a new wand, twelve inches of black willow with a core of basilisk and dragon fangs, a favor from Mr. Ollivander for saving him at Malfoy Manor. He worked hard for the whole summer, only taking weekends off to relax. He didn't get drunk anymore, but continued picking up girls in discos as a way to let off steam and stress.

He found it curious that Ginny didn't send him a letter at all after the day he saw her with Michael. It still hurt a bit, but after two months she rarely entered his thoughts. Hermione sent letters and asked about him, and the pain in his heart about his best friend, and possibly the love of his life, increased with each letter he received. She even tried to get him to go back in Hogwarts after he told her that he would take his N.E.W.T.s without taking his seventh year, but making independent studies in his home, but he wouldn't budge. Going to Hogwarts so soon after the Final Battle that took place there would be like putting salt on a fresh wound, and he was no masochist, although later he found out that there was another reason why he didn't want to go to Hogwarts. There was Hermione with Ron and Ginny with Michael, and he knew he couldn't stand to see them happy while he was being miserable, and he even feared that his own misery will make them miserable. So he lied in the letters, saying that he was fine and that everything was great.

They slowly drifted apart, what with Ron and Hermione going to Hogwarts and him staying home in Potter Manor and studying relentlessly. He found it easy to remember and study the material without the added worry of somebody murdering him throughout the year, or having to worry about homework and detentions, and his study time increased to ten hours a day, five days a week. In the span of six months, he had learned all there was to learn in the seventh year books of transfiguration, charms, defense against the dark arts, herbology, potions and care of magical creatures, and even revised and learned what he missed from his previous years on those subjects. He didn't read anything about divination, astrology or history of magic for these subjects were of no use to him, as he didn't have the sight, or was interested in history and astrology.

So after those six months he started studying occlumency, along with arithmancy and ancient runes. Without Voldemort tearing down his defenses with each vision, he rapidly progressed and found out he was a natural in occlumency. He progressed slowly but surely in ancient runes and arithmancy, and after another six months, he finished with the third through fifth year's books, having memorized and learned everything they had to offer. The introduction of the third year books said that they were crucial elements of warding, ward breaking and spell crafting.

He had just finished the fifth year book on arithmancy and was about to start on the sixth year books on arithmancy and runes when the time for N.E.W.T.s testing came, so he revised all the subjects except for arithmancy and ancient runes, because he wouldn't be tested for those.

The morning of the tests dawned, so Harry woke up early with the help of an alarm charm on his pillow, got out of bed and showered, shaved and brushed his teeth. He had learned long ago that he could do nothing about his hair, not even shave it, so he didn't bother with it. He got down to the dining room on the first floor and saw a medium sized breakfast awaiting him. He usually ate his full and then some each morning in order to gain some much needed weight, but that day he didn't want to be too full, for he had important tests to go through. He took two of his best made pepper up potions and left the manor, apparating to the gates of Hogwarts. The gates were open and he saw the Hogwarts examination board going through them, so he hurried up after them in order not to anger Filch, who wouldn't want to open the gates a second time for one wizard.

So he trailed back behind the crowd of examiners and entered Hogwarts grounds for the first time in a year. As he walked the grounds to the door of the school, he had realized something that made him even sadder than the loss of all those lives last year. He realized that Hogwarts wasn't his home anymore. He didn't feel safe here as he did in Potter Manor. He sighed, realizing that it was completely normal not to feel at home in a school, even though he felt like he just lost his home.

He trudged down the halls and to the staff meeting room, where he met Minerva McGonagall sitting and awaiting the instructors.

"Mr. Potter? What are you doing here?" asked the confused witch, for she did not expect to see Harry then and there, in the company of the board of examiners.

"I'm here to take my N.E.W.T.s, Professor." said Harry, equally confused that McGonagall didn't expect him to finish his education.

"I thought you gave up on your education them minute you realized that you didn't have to work a day in your life." explained McGonagall.

"No, I did independent study at home. I just couldn't bear coming back here so soon after… you know…" he trailed off, not wanting to remember that awful night.

"Oh. I- I understand. Well, you are in the classroom number 3 on the third floor. It seems that there is only place with that group. Here is your exam schedule, and you can skip the tests you don't want to be tested in." explained the Professor while handing him a parchment with the schedule of his tests.

"Thank you." said Harry before turning around and walking out of the room.

"Harry…" said McGonagall to catch his attention as he left the interested board of examiners and the professor.

"Yes, professor?" asked Harry, wondering what she wanted to say, and since when did she start using his first name.

"Good luck." she said simply, and he offered her a smile before closing the door and heading for the third floor.

He entered the classroom numbered with a three and sat down in the front. It was still empty, and he guessed that the students weren't up yet. He still had hours before the first exam started, so he relaxed in his chair and started meditating.

He had found out early on that while meditating, the speed of the mind and the capacity of memory were being expanded, and he thought that nobody else knew this, because all the books on occlumency that were in the Potter Library indicated that meditation was only needed to clear one's thoughts before starting to build a wall around the mind. So his mind eased in relaxation as he started to run through the material that he studied and revised this past year. After he finished the revising in almost two hours, his mind eased in relaxation and he thought of absolutely nothing for a full hour. He was interrupted as he was finishing the meditation.

"Harry? What are you doing here? Are you listening to me? You aren't asleep, are you?" asked a very familiar voice, so he emerged from his meditation and opened his eyes.

"Hi Ginny, how are you?" asked Harry as he took in her image. Her hair was a little darker, and her body developed even further, making her look even more desirable. Her breasts were bigger and her lips fuller, her curves more pronounced than he remembered them being and her voice was changed a little.

"I'm fine, thanks. How are you?" she asked casually, which angered Harry a little, but his recent mediation helped him in covering it all up.

"I'm great. Thanks for asking." he said, and she didn't catch his undertone of anger and irritation. He didn't need this, and definitely not now.

"Why didn't you come to Hogwarts this year?" she asked while taking a seat in the chair on the next desk. Each desk had only one chair, to prevent cheating on the tests. Harry shrugged. What was he supposed to say, that he didn't have anything good to come back to? That she had lied to him when she told him that she would wait for him and that Hogwarts only held memories of loss to him?

"I didn't think I had anything to come back to. Ron and you didn't bother writing, and although Hermione wanted me to come back and begged me in her letters, I realized that Hogwarts didn't have anything for me anymore. I had no other friends than Ron and Hermione, and since they are a couple, I figured we couldn't be "the golden trio" anymore; I'd be odd man out. So, I stayed at home and studied." said Harry, not mentioning the drinking habit he developed after seeing her and Michael in a classroom on this very floor.

"You still had me." she said softly after she realized his predicament and what he went through. In reality, she had no idea what he went through.

"Really? If I came back to Hogwarts, how would Michael react if he saw you hanging out with me often?" he asked incredulously, envisioning the whole school watching Michael Corner exploding at Harry, telling him that he was stealing his girlfriend.

"I'm sorry Harry. I wanted to tell you, but it seemed that you had enough on your mind." she said apologetically.

"Well, it doesn't matter now. I was hurt and got the shortest straw anyway. The fact is, you made your choices, and now you have to live with them. You said you would wait for me, and you didn't. I just want you to know that I was waiting for you, and that I sought you out right after Voldemort was finished, and you were busy with Michael in a classroom on this very floor. It was then that I realized that we didn't have a future, that you didn't really love me and that I was just a candle to get through dark times. I understand that, and I bear no hard feelings. I just want to thank you for the good times, even though you were just fooling around." Harry said calmly just as another student entered the classroom.

He turned away from her and stared in space as more and more students filtered inside the classroom. Michael came in, cast a suspicious look at Harry, kissed Ginny on the lips for good luck and sat in the nearest available desk, his eyes still flickering between his girlfriend and one of her ex boyfriends.

The day crawled painfully slow for Harry, as he went through the motions, dealing with the written parts of the exams as fast as possible using occlumency and then acing the practical parts. He felt that he had impressed the examiners on transfiguration, charms and defense of the dark arts. It was getting dark and he was getting tired - despite the two pepper up potions running through his veins - as he brewed the draught of living death for the potions examiner. After that last practical, he hurried home, avoiding any discussion and encounter with Ron or Hermione, because they would have heard about him sitting the exams by now.

Yes, he remembered quite well, even though he had perfected his occlumency shields and memory recall much later. That was the beginning of his career as a scholar and a figurehead of the Light. He was starting to learn all kinds of magic. He started with learning defense against the dark arts in depth, trying to procure a mastery, only to realize that it wasn't a real subject. There was no such thing ever recorded as a Master in Defense against the Dark Arts. All you needed was some recommendations from the Minister of Magic or the Department of Law Enforcement, and/or a resume with at least five years of battling the dark forces. He was dismayed when he learned that almost anyone with good ties in the Department of Law Enforcement or the Minister could be a teacher in Hogwarts. It didn't seem so odd now that there were so many incompetent defense teachers back in his school days.

So he cast aside his dream of teaching defense and concentrated on transfiguration. He bought all the advanced books he could find and bought many living beings and inanimate objects to experiment on, everything from buttons and beetles to pigs and boulders. He felt that he would be ready to teach when he reached McGonagall's level. But he reached her level after studying the subject in under a year, so he decided that he would push towards Dumbledore's level. After two more years of working exclusively on transfiguration he finally reached something _akin_ to Dumbledore's level. He knew all the spells in over fifty books on transfiguration, every law and rule, but he didn't have enough magic inside his core to cast the most powerful ones repeatedly. He knew now that his core was not strong enough to support that kind of heavy casting.

So he sought for ways to correct this flaw, but couldn't find anything in the light magic books in the Potter Library, so he turned to the dark books in the Black Library. He was afraid at first to read from the Black collection of books on magic, a collection which supposedly held the darkest of dark books. He was surprised that almost all of the books held a warning in their first pages. He found out many things about the dark magics just by reading the prologues. For instance, Dark Magic was forbidden only because to the weak willed wizards it was extremely addictive. One book even explained that the Imperious Curse was created and used to measure the willpower of the apprentices in a non painful manner. If they could break it, they had enough willpower to resist the call of darkness. Before the curse was invented, anyone that wanted to be apprenticed under a Master in the dark arts had to put his arm in the fire and hold it there until the Master told him to remove it in order to be initiated as an Apprentice. And even then, that sometimes didn't' work, because some candidates used numbing potions or spells, so the unbreakable Imperious curse was invented, especially designed to be broken only by the distraction of the caster or by the willpower of the subject.

So his search opened his eyes toward a whole new area of magic he was afraid of until now. He had withstood an Imperious Curse from Lord Voldemort himself, and he hadn't budged a finger, which indicated that he had an enormous amount of willpower.

After five more years of study and research, Harry didn't have any more books to read on the subject of Dark Arts and Charms. He tried to look for a ritual to expand his core, preferably one that wasn't too sinister, but found that there was not a single ritual used for expanding the core that didn't involve a human sacrifice, so he was stuck in those regards as well. Still, after five years of constantly doing magic, his core grew a little, and he was able to last a little bit longer with the most advanced transfigurations and animations. His occlumency though was already at a level greater than Dumbledore's and Voldemort's.

He constantly got letters from Hermione and he replied to each and every one. She was the only friend from his childhood that still tried to stay in contact with him. He learned that she got a job in Florish and Blott's and worked there as a librarian, and Ron worked in George's joke shop. He knew even back then that nothing would amount of the lazy and carefree redhead. Hermione was very much surprised that Harry stayed at home and continued learning magic. She even joked in one letter, saying that he was attempting to become the next Dumbledore.

After that letter the truth of her words hit him. He really wanted to be like Dumbledore. He had the option of stopping in his studies when he reached McGonagall's level in knowledge and power in transfiguration, and subsequently get a Mastery in transfiguration and become a transfiguration professor at Hogwarts, but he had decided to forgo it for Dumbledore's level.

It was then that he realized that he had no life but his ambition to become like Dumbledore, and maybe even a more powerful protector of the weak. He was twenty eight years old, and he didn't have a wife, didn't have children, hell, he didn't even have a girlfriend. So he opened a drawer in his desk one morning and decided to look over the marriage contracts that were sent to him after the defeat of Voldemort. He didn't accept any of them, but this was the only way he knew how to get a wife. He decided not to rush things. So he checked the marriage contracts, and he was interested in five of them: Padma Patil, Parvati Patil, Susan Bones, Hannah Abbot and Daphne Greengrass. He went to the Ministry's Marital Department and inquired all of their marital statuses. It turned out that only two of the girls weren't married yet; Susan Bones and Daphne Greengrass. He asked the clerk why the girls haven't married yet, and he got the most curious answer.

"Well, Mr. Potter, you see, after the war with you know who, many wizards died, and now we find ourselves with a much larger number than witches, so naturally some of them would remain not married. It turned out that the Bones and Greengrass families had very little to offer, almost no money and only several relics and their respected book collections. Considering this, no pureblood wizards decided that they were worthy of marriage and since they both kept to themselves, no half-blood or muggleborn has gotten to know them enough to propose." answered the unnamed clerk with a balding head.

"Yes, but now I have to choose between these two, and frankly I can't figure out which one to court first." answered Harry after the clerk's explanation.

"Oh, boy! You still have to learn a lot about pureblood tradition. You are the Head of two Ancient and Noble Houses, Potter and Black. Thus, you need two wives to produce heirs for either of them." said the clerk, grinning like the cat that got the canary.

"Two wives, you say?" asked Harry with raised eyebrows. The clerk only nodded while still grinning.

"Hmm." hummed Harry in thought before thanking the wizard and exiting the ministry, going home to mull on the new developments.

So he courted both of the girls. After six months of courting, he realized that he will never get married. It just stood in the way of his work. Dating two girls at the same time took a huge chunk of his time, and if he got married to just one, he realized that he would have to decrease his pace of studying, and then the whole process would crumble and fall. On the other side, he knew that he was a target for Dark wizards, and he just didn't want to paint a target on the two wonderful girls' backs.

He realized that a relationship with a woman was like a beautiful flower. It demanded constant light, care, attention and love in order to grow. So he understood that right now he didn't have time to pay attention and care to one relationship, let alone two, and that pushed him to decide that would stay single and move on with his work. Susan and Daphne were sad about his decision, but they understood. They got married to each other though, and being the first lesbian couple in seven hundred years, they were under a lot of scrutiny. They had even decided between themselves that Harry was the father they wanted for their babies, so they called him up and told him of his decision. After much debate, he agreed to do it on one condition. They would tell no one that he was the father to their children, for he was a constant target, and some of the death eaters that got off scot free would just love to get their hands on a child spawned by him. So he became a biological father of two children, a boy from Susan and a girl from Daphne, even though he rarely visited them, and they didn't know he was their father until they were seventeen years old.

So he trudged on through the world of magic, soaking up knowledge and constantly increasing his memory speed and potential. He traveled through the world for fifteen years, picking up much knowledge in the ways of the ever elusive wandless magic and core manipulation techniques. It was in Tibet that he learned how to enhance his core without the use of rituals, and in India he learned how to sprout tentacles from it and move them about. He picked up the wandless magics all around the world, from places where wizards were "primitive" and haven't invented focuses, mostly from Africa and Australia where there were entire villages of wizards, but only the oldest of them were powerful enough to use magic wandlessly, and they were called shamans or witch doctors. The rest behaved just like muggles.

He was interrupted in his travels when a letter from Hermione told him that there was a new Dark Lord and he was out for muggle blood. War was stirring in the Wizarding World, so he came back to deal with the new Dark Lord.

Not a month passed that the Dark Lord Mortanius, which was really Draco Malfoy, got his ass beaten up and captured and carted off to Azkaban, along with the fifty odd followers he had. He was a piece of cake compared to Voldemort, so he was easy to deal with. Harry caught him in one of his raids on Diagon Alley, watched him and the last of his followers torching the business of a muggleborn wizard that had decided to build trunks for living.

He had fired the only battle spell he knew back then, the sonic boom spell, and watched as Malfoy and his followers fell down like dominoes from the spell which had the effect a jet flying low in mach three had. All the glass windows around them broke and Harry quickly summoned all their wands and promptly broke them. The people of Diagon Alley cheered as Aurors apparated in the alley, thanking him for taking care of Malfoy and proceeded to bind the criminals before portkeying them to the ministry.

So this was the life of Harry James Potter, always saving the day never wanting any gratitude from the people he saved. He had received countless gifts and gratitude donations, but most of what he received he gave away to charity foundations and orphanages around the country.

He had continued looking for more magics to study all around the globe, and came across powerful Spartan battle magic. He could cast the easiest of the spells quite easily after studying them in detail, but the strongest ones found him lacking. So he had continued with manipulating and expanding his core, as well as compressing the magic within and developing his magical canals. His control got to the point that a simple "incendio" he cast he could use as a cigarette lighter, or a flamethrower that he could keep for hours on end.

He had lost half of his left leg, from the knee down, and his right hand in a duel with the next Dark Lord, a man that had graduated from Drumstrang several years before he was born and only recently started to gather followers, but was almost as powerful as Voldemort himself. He had been foolish to underestimate him, expecting an easy fight like the one with Draco Malfoy, and he had paid with flesh, bones and blood. He was lucky that Rosmerta from the three Broomsticks apparated him to St. Mungos immediately, for he would have died of blood loss for sure. It was there that they implanted him with a wooden leg, one like Mad Eye used to wear.

After losing his right hand he couldn't cast half the spells he knew with his left one. It just wasn't coordinated right. So he worked with mediation and occlumency and developed the coordination in his left hand to the point it was on par with the coordination his right and use to have. Meanwhile he had researched how to regrow limbs, but hit a brick wall, so he developed an artificial hand made from stainless steel and dragon nerves. He used his knowledge in transfiguration and animation to create hollow bones made from stainless steel, through which he inserted nerves from a dragon. The nerves were spelled with strong numbing spells and spelled not do degrade or rot. After assembling the skeleton like hand he connected the nerves with his severed ones in order to let magic flow through the metallic hand and enable him to cast spells through it.

At first there was some magic bleeding through the cracks where the dragon nerves and his connected, but he fixed that with oak rings around the cracks, making the flow of magic stable. Next, he created an animation spell to make the hand move through commands of his sub-consciousness. In the end, the metallic hand felt weird, but he got used to it within a week of practice. One thing that surprised even him was that the hand had more strength than his original one had, but he guessed it was because it was held together by magic and empowered by it, so sometimes when he was in a rush he would break the doorknobs and handles when he just wanted to open a door.

Time flew by. Several Dark Lords from the younger generations got defeated early by him, not giving them any time to develop into something more powerful and sinister. He had learned most of the wand and wandless magics he could find anywhere by now, so he started dabbling in alchemy a bit. Before he knew it he was over one hundred and sixty years old and Hermione was on her deathbed. She had requested him to come and talk to her one last time, so he had apparated to St. Mungos in order to send her off to the next great adventure.

"Hi Harry. How are you?" asked a weak one hundred and sixty four year old Hermione, her eyes shining with pain as her body continued to give up.

"I'm as well as it can be expected considering my age. I just feel tired, no matter how much I sleep and how much I rest, I feel tired, but I guess that is to be expected." he said pleasantly.

"Yes, I remember being like that when I hit one hundred and thirty. I guess you will live to see at least a hundred and ninety." she said serenely.

He just nodded, and a one minute silence followed, in which Hermione seemed to consider telling him something.

"Harry, I called here because I had something I wanted to tell you. Something that I think you should know, that you should have known ever since our Hogwarts days." she said hesitantly.

"Hermione, I'm still the same old Harry. I like to think that I have matured a bit over the years, but you know you could tell me anything back then, and you can tell me anything now." he said while he reached and took her hand in his left one, the one that still could feel.

"I know Harry. Listen. I just wanted to tell you that… that I love you. I loved you ever since our sixth year in Hogwarts. I just kept quiet, thinking that I was unworthy of you, so I went to Ron; the only one that I knew wouldn't turn me down. One thing led to another and I found myself married to him and having two of his babies. I loved him too, but only as a friend Harry. I regret my cowardice all those years ago. I should have left the Sorting Hat place me in Ravenclaw. I'm no Gryffindor and I've suffered for pretending to be one." said Hermione softly as tears slid from her eyes and traveled down her wrinkled cheeks.

Harry took a handkerchief and whipped her tears down before he sighed and started with his own confession.

"I think I loved you too, ever since I saw you on the hand of Viktor Krum on the Yule Ball in our fourth year. It was just that, it seemed to me that Ron fancied you from much earlier, what with all the quarrels he instigated with you. And it seemed to me that you seemed more interested in him than in me, so I let it slide. Oh the irony, I stood up to such great evils to protect others and their happiness, but I realized that I have never stood up for myself. Never in my life. How pathetic is that. And here we both are: old, alone and miserable. Hell, I was miserable ever since the final battle with Voldemort. I think I suffered a small heart attack when I saw Ginny kiss Michael Corner in a classroom just after the final battle. You were occupied with Ron, and my "consolation prize" went with some twit that cowered when I fought Voldemort." said Harry with a bitter chuckle.

"I busied myself these past years with studying too Harry." she said slowly, which made Harry curious, as she had changed her subject quite abruptly.

"Oh? What did you study." asked Harry.

"Time travel. If I could just send a note to my past self, telling her that Harry loves her and that she should admit his feelings for her, all of our misery can be sidestepped." she said slowly.

"Interesting, although it wouldn't change anything for us. You cannot change the present through the past no matter how hard you try, for it is impossible. If you got a note then and we got together, there would be no reason to send a note back in the past, and the loop-that-never-was would be broken. The best you can hope for is that when you send the note back, your past self will make a choice to tell me that she loves me and create an alternate universe that will run with parallel with this one where _they_ live happily ever after. And even then, if you don't remember receiving a note like that ever, there is no way to change the past events that you definitely know occurred. We could only save Sirius and Buckbeak in our third year because we haven't witnessed their deaths. There is no hope for us. We are doomed." said Harry.

Hermione sighed. He waited for her to speak more. But after five minutes of waiting he realized that something was wrong. He stood up and moved closer to her, bent over and placed his ear to her chest. Her heart wasn't beating. He sighed as tears welled up in his eyes. He reached with his left hand and gently closed her glassed out eyes. He got out of the room and called the healers, informing them that Hermione had passed away. They wrote down the time of death and transported the body to the morgue while the rest of the Weaslys repeated the performance from the lawns of Hogwarts all those years ago, hugging, crying and grieving.

He got home and for the first time in a hundred and forty years he got totally drunk. He passed out with the half full Firewhiskey bottle in his hand and another one that rolled under the couch. Needless to say his hangover the other morning was monumental. After casting a spell to make the horrible feeling in his gut and throat disappear, he considered what Hermione told him. She was now dead, so she couldn't fix what went wrong all those years ago. But he was alive, and he had around thirty years to figure a way to change the past.

After two years, he figured out how to send notes in the past, but he never tested the spell, nor he knew a way that it could be tested, since the note would theoretically disappear and appear somewhere and sometime in the past, and create an alternate universe, with no connection with this one. But he was selfish. _He_ wanted a good life, and a counterpart of his in a different universe just wouldn't cut it. And he felt that after all he had done for the world, the fates owed him another chance, and that he had _the right_ to a good life. So he started searching for spells or artifacts that could bring him to the past.

He needed something to bring only his soul in the past, because his body was now, at the age of one hundred and sixty, nearly useless. He needed to be young again. To be born again. So he searched. After more than twenty years of searching, he found something, but he didn't know exactly what it was.

The artifact was a black steel fifty four centimeters long (around 22 inches) wakizashi, with strange and powerful enchantments on it. It had a golden pommel stylized to look like a half-breed between a lizard and a dragon, exactly how dragons were envisioned in ancient China. Its wings were folded and its eyes were milky white, and it looked like it was blind.

He tried every different revealing spell he knew, but he couldn't detect all the spells on the sword and its sheath. In fact, the only spells he revealed were an ever sharp spell and a spell to keep the blade from tarnishing and rusting. The rest of the magical power that emanated from the sword was from three spells that every revealing spell indentified them as "unknown enchantment".

===== Fall, Year 2172 =====

He inspected the illustration thoroughly and concluded that the artifact he had found almost ten years ago was the legendary short sword called "The Golden Dragon". He leaned back in the comfortable office chair and weighed his options. One, he could use the sword and perform the seppuku ritual, with a fifty-fifty chance of either dying a and going to the afterlife or being reborn again and having another shot at his life; or two, he could just forget about the ritual and live the several years he had remaining of his natural life.

It didn't even take him a full minute to decide to do the ritual. Even if he failed, all he had to lose were several years as an old man, but if it worked, he could have his youth and strength back, and another shot on life, this time, hopefully, with Hermione and his family.

He stood up and went to an old battered wooden chest. He muttered a password, and the top sprung up, giving way to the neon light and revealing six yellow cake-like objects with small digital LCD display screens attached on them. He took the C4 explosives and placed them evenly around his hideout, carefully setting them on the ground and timing each to explode in thirty minutes. If any wizard got his hands on the Hallows, or even just the Elder Wand, the world would fall into darkness again.

He sat down on his office chair as the clock continued to tick. He opened a bottle of Firewhiskey and took a gulp before lighting one of his cigarettes. He let the smoke out slowly and took his time to enjoy himself, knowing that if the ritual worked, he couldn't have a cigarette or a glass of Firewhiskey for seventeen years, after which he would be the legal age to drink and smoke all he liked.

He checked the watch as he pressed the butt of the cigarette and gulped down what was left of the whiskey in his glass before he got up and opened his old school trunk with a spell he personally designed. He peered inside and saw the Hallows lying innocently on the wooden floor of his old trunk, alongside the golden dragon and several other objects, one of which was a time turner. He took the sword and levitated the trunk to the nearest C4 package. He wanted those items destroyed after he wasn't there anymore to guard them.

He checked his watch again, and saw that there were only twenty minutes before the whole hangar exploded. He got down on his knees slowly and removed his jacket and shirt. His wrinkled body had several scars from his scrapes with dark lords over the past two hundred years, but they would all go away soon. He unsheathed the black blade with a flourish and placed the sheath in front of him. He grasped the wakizashi with both hands and positioned it to his stomach. He took a deep breath and exhaled half of it as he plunged the black blade deep within his stomach. Pain coursed to his body but he ignored it for several minutes as his vision blurred and after that he finally passed out from blood loss. His heart took nearly three minutes to stop, after which Harry James Potter was officially dead.

Two minutes before the C4 explosives blew up, the golden dragon which was actually the pommel of the sword which Harry impaled himself with blinked. Its eyes gained a bright green color and black slits, and the dead body and the sword erupted in white light. From the dome of light erupted a sixty feet dragon made of golden light, before it shot up and went through the roof like a ghost. It sailed up in the night sky until a circle of blue light appeared above it. It speared through it and the circle of light closed down after the tip of its spiked tail disappeared through it. The only magical person in the area was a blind ninety year old squib who didn't see anything of this magical spectacle, but heard the explosion that followed not two minutes after it.

The Aurors arrived on the scene to find a huge area totally destroyed and flaming. They doused the flames with "aguamenti" charms and cast revealing spells around the area. A charred body held the magical signature of one Harry James Potter, and they realized that the legend of a man was dead. Of the rubble nothing was salvaged, and they buried his charred body in a public funeral, where all the wizards and witches of Britain attended to honor his legend.


	2. The Real Sirius Black

A/N: Wow. Just… Wow. Almost fifty reviews for a single chapter. Oh, I'm going to love writing and posting this story. I think it's going to be awesome. I can't really express the genre of the story with only two words, because it will encompass almost all genres. Action, Adventure, Romance, Angst, Humor, Family, Friendship, you name it I have it.  
I dug as deep as I could for this chapter. I did a whole 180 turn on the story near the end of it, probably because I wrote the chapter in two sittings. If I was a betting man, I'd bet that all the girls and women would be crying when they read this, and all the guys will be "Nah dude, I got something in my eye". But then again, I'm not a betting man, so I don't really know what kind of reactions would I get for this one. But, I'm a curious man. So let me know what you think in your reviews. Yeah. Don't forget to **REVIEW!!!**

You're gonna hate me for this one.

Disclaimer: see Chapter One

Chapter Two: The Real Sirius Black

==== Summer, Year 1980 =====

Above the village named Godric's Hollow, at approximately 4:45 pm local time, on July the thirty-first, a blue portal, like a shining disc of soft light opened up. There was no one magical outside in the hot weather, and since muggles couldn't see magic, no one noticed the spectacular sight. A golden dragon made entirely of magic erupted from the disc-like portal and spread its wings as it sailed down to one particular house as the disc quickly shrank in on itself and disappeared. This was no ordinary house; he didn't know how he knew that, but he knew that his destination was there, inside the house, on the first floor, in the largest bedroom, inside the red haired witch that napped next to her husband on the king sized bed with white silken sheets. Its eyes flashed green as it dove down, went through the roof and slammed head first into the pregnant woman, disappearing in her swollen tummy, causing her water to burst. She screamed as she bolted up as much as she could without crushing her baby, and consequently woke up her husband.

"Wazzat?! Lyly! Are we under attack?!" asked a sleepy and disoriented James Potter as his eyes flew open and darted in search of his presumed attacker.

"James… The baby… It's coming out…" gasped Lily out between shallow intakes of breath. Her husband jumped up from the bed and took her in his arms. He proceeded to walk down the stairs and to the living room, and stopped in front of the fireplace, where he put Lily Potter down. He took a pinch of Floo Powder that was resting in an open jar on the mantel and threw it in the fireplace. The fireplace roared up and its flames turned green as he gently guided Lily to the fireplace.

"James… The baby… Is it safe?" asked Lily while holding back tears of pain.

"The Floo is the only magical method of travel safe enough for a pregnant woman. Just try to stay in balance. If, you slip, don't panic, I'm right behind you." said James before he pushed her gently into the flames and lunged in after her.

They exited from one of the fireplaces in St. Mungo's and quickly went to the desk of the receptionist.

"My wife is in labor, and this is an emergency. Call a Healer right now. Hurry up for god's sake!" said James quickly to the witch that was reading a Witch Weekly magazine. She looked up from her magazine and blinked.

"Please be seated. A Healer will be with you shortly." she said before she got back to reading her magazine. James waited for five seconds for her to call a Healer, but when he saw that she wasn't doing her job, an ugly sneer worth of Slytherin himself came across his face.

"So help me God, I'll have your job for this." he snarled out and checked her name tag, before trotting off to his wife which was leaning on the fireplace.

"Let's go honey. I'll find you a Healer." said James to the panting woman as he embraced her with his left arm, while his right hand twitched. A wand sprouted up from the disillusioned holster he kept on his right arm and he proceeded to the elevator.

"Sir! Sir, you can't use the elevator. You have to be admitted first." said the receptionist in warning, but he just snapped a stunner at her which caught her square between the eyes and left a nasty bruise there. He pressed the button that said 'delivery ward' with the tip of his wand and the elevator's doors closed, drowning out the mayhem that ensued after the patients in the lobby saw the receptionist get hit with a spell.

He reached the level and entered the almost deserted ward. He knocked on the office of a Healer, and when no reply came, he proceeded to the next one, which also turned out moot. On his third try though he finally knocked on an office door with a Healer in it.

"Enter." a voice said from behind the door. James pushed the door open and looked at the Healer.

"Sir, my wife is in labor…" started James, but the Healer jumped up after hearing the word labor. He quickly put on his lime green over robe and grabbed his wand.

"Follow me sir." the Healer said and lead the way to a delivery room.

* * *

He didn't know who he was, where he was, or even what he was. He was surrounded by darkness. But it wasn't a creepy darkness, like the one in the moonless nights; no, it was a comfortable darkness. One that made you feel safe and loved. Suddenly he felt a disturbance, akin to an earth quake. The disturbance was followed by another and another. Suddenly he was afraid. He wanted to panic, to cry out and shout, to open his eyes, but his instincts told him not to, at least not yet. So he trusted his instincts and tried to stay as calm as possible.

Suddenly he felt a pressure start building around the top of his head. It squeezed around his head as it moved downwards, until he saw a bright white light with his semi closed eyes. The pressure moved down, and he felt coldness around his head, as if the warm and safe feeling is being squeezed out of him. Just as the feeling disappeared, his instincts told him to take a big breath and start crying.

And he did just that. He took a huge gulp of air and started crying for all he was worth. He didn't know who he was, where he was, when he was, or even what he was. The bright light, the noise and the coldness didn't help his predicament either. It was all so confusing and chaotic, and he was so tired and hungry and thirsty and _cold_. He was wrapped in something comfortable and thrust at what felt like a fleshy mound, and his instincts told him it contained food, so he put his mouth around the nipple and started sucking. Warm milk flooded his mouth, and he gulped down greedily. After he felt full and warm and satisfied, he closed his half blind eyes and fell asleep.

* * *

"Congratulations sir. You are now the father of a healthy baby boy weighted three kilograms (around 6 pounds 10 ounces)." said the Healer as he left the delivery room, exactly at midnight, and entered the hallway with a tired smile on his face. James sighed in relief before smiling himself. He opened the door and saw his wife breast feeding a small baby. She looked pale and tired but she still had a smile on her face. He approached her and kissed her on the forehead.

"How are you? How's the baby?" asked James in a whisper.

"I'm okay honey. A little bit shook up, but thankfully the labour was a short one. The baby is fine. He just fell asleep." she whispered back.

"Okay, we stay here for tonight, but after that we have to go back to the house. It isn't safe to stay here." Said James quietly as he sat down in the nearest chair.

"Alright, honey; But you must call Sirius first to tell Harry the secret." she whispered back.

"Harry? Harry who?" asked James.

"The baby, stupid. His name will be Harry." Said a determined Lilly Potter.

"It's a good name, if a bit ordinary for a wizard, but why Harry?" he asked in amusement.

"Harry James Potter. It rolls off the tongue, so when you teach him how to prank I'll have little to no problems yelling at him." she said with a fond smile. James just grinned.

He still was in shock about the whole thing. Being a father would be wonderful, albeit a bit weird for a guy of his maturity level. He decided right away that he would teach his son to be the man. The head honcho at Hogwarts. He would teach him how to prank, how to ride a broom, and later, how love women, how to woo women and wrap them around his pinkie finger, how to make them scream in ecstasy and how to break their hearts softly and make them cry silent tears. His mother would definitely try to twist him back, but he would make sure his son would not be just another nerd like his mother once was. Sure, he would make sure he got good grades, but he would also make sure that he had a life, and one filled with laughter and love. He sat there, staring in space as his wife and his baby boy slept, planning the life of his son and his training, and barely noticed when the sun rose.

* * *

"So, this is the little guy, huh? Harry you said? Aboogaboogabooooo- ow!" asked Sirius as he made faces at Harry, before promptly being grabbed by the nose by a tiny little hand.

"Sirius, stop playing around and tell Harry the secret so we can go inside." Snapped Lily weakly, for she had not yet received all her strength back from the birth of Harry.

"Alright. The Potter House can be found at Number Ten, Griffin Lane, Godric's Hollow." Sirius whispered in the baby's ear. Once the secret was divulged to the baby that didn't even understand the words or their meaning, the magic took over, revealing the two story house to the little infant.

"Let's go inside. I'll call Dumbledore to check on Harry." said James before he gently grasped his wife, which was holding their newborn son, and entered the yard. They all went inside the house, and Sirius and Lily sat down while James went straight to the fireplace and took a pinch of Floo powder.

"Hogwarts, headmaster's office." commanded James as he threw the powder in the fire before sticking his head in it.

"What is it James?" asked Albus Dumbledore from his office as James' head appeared in his fireplace.

"It was as you had feared. Our baby was born one minute before midnight last night. You better come over and check him out." James said before he removed his head from the fire. Not a minute after that, Albus Dumbledore, with his phoenix Fawkes on his shoulder, emerged from the fireplace.

"First of all, I would like to congratulate you, James, for becoming a father, you Lily, for becoming a mother, and you Sirius, for becoming a Godfather. Now, where is the baby?" asked Dumbledore with a twinkle in his eyes as he noticed the proud looks and straightened backs of his former pupils.

"He's right here." said Lily before laying Harry in a conjured crib, courtesy of his father.

"It's a boy then. Good, that will make things easier." said Dumbledore as he moved toward the crib.

"What do you mean 'easier', Dumbledore? Witches are just as good, if not better at magic than wizards." said Lily with a sniff. She often got angry when someone thought her inferior just because she was a woman, or thought women inferior over men, even though pureblood society was quite firm on the fact that women were inferior to men.

"I do not mean to discriminate, Lily, but boys and men are more aggressive and physically endurable in nature as a rule; therefore, if it would be easier to train a boy in dueling than a girl, despite the fact that girls are more studious than boys. Of course, there are exceptions from every rule." said Dumbledore before whipping out his wand and casting a spell at the little boy that was fast asleep in the conjured crib.

Periwinkle blue eyes widened and light-gray bushy eyebrows rose as Dumbledore read the results of his most advanced detection charm. A magical field erupted around the boy as it woke up and cried out loud, and the field exploded outwards, throwing Dumbledore away from the conjured crib. The old man used what little magic he could instinctively do as he was flung back, and stopped several inches before he hit the far wall and busted his head open.

He canceled the arresto momentum spell and he dropped down several inches before his dragon hide boots touched the soft carpet of the living room floor. He looked up to the faces of the astonished magicians, and knew that they knew that Harry wasn't ordinary.

"H- Headmaster? Are you alright sir?" asked Lily in a frightened tone.

"Quite fine, Lily, though I daresay that your son will one day be a most accomplished duellist." said the wizened Headmaster with a chuckle as he once again approached the crib.

"What in the blazes was that?" asked an astonished Sirius once he regained his ability to speak.

"I'm not quite sure, but it seems that Harry's magic is very strong. From what I detected, he is as strong as you are in magic, James, but we have no way of knowing how strong he truly will be, for his magic is still wild and untamed. It might grow to be in epic proportions, or it might stay as it is. Whatever happens, your son will be a powerful wizard, to say the least. I checked the Longbottom boy as well, who was born the day before Harry was, but he was only average in magical power. Neville they named him." said Dumbledore as he gazed down in Harry's crib.

Bright green eyes met his, not seeing but still hiding something, and then Dumbledore felt a sudden urge to use legilimency on the baby. He resisted the urge valiantly, and he didn't bring himself low enough to use dark magic on a newborn baby. Not many knew this, but the Headmaster was a master Legilimens, even though it was a dark art. But for one in his position, it was a necessary evil to scan the minds of others, for betrayal could hide in the most trusting persons. Like his close confidant Mad Eye Moody says, one can never be careful enough. Still, those eyes made him feel uncomfortable, and he averted his gaze to the adults in the room.

"I hate to say this, but heed me well. Treat Harry fairly, and love him, but do not smother him. Whether he will be the one to end the Dark Lord or not, do not let his head inflate, for he will be a powerful wizard one day, and without proper guidance, love and fairness, he might stray to the dark side. Remember, love him, but do not let your love interfere with his disciplining. He must learn proper moral values." he said before swishing his wand over the coffee table. A book called "The Tales of Beetle the Bard" appeared on the coffee table and he picked it up before he gave it to Lily.

"Read to him often from this book. I myself grew up from the stories contained within it, and I must say that learning from the stories in there builds outstanding morals and ethics." said Dumbledore.

"Don't worry Headmaster. I know how to take care of my child." said Lily, a bit icily as she looked over the book. Dumbledore nodded silently before he grabbed Fawkes' tail feather.

"I must go now, for I am a very busy man. Good day." Dumbledore said before he disappeared in a flash of orange and red flames.

* * *

His memories came to him rapidly, and after a week of his rebirth, he knew exactly who he was and where he was, and most importantly, when and why he was. His mother and father took care of him and talked to him, played with him, fed him and at night they read and sang to him. He even recognised the story of the Deathly Hallows, although he didn't know where his mother got that book from, even though he knew that there was a possibility Dumbledore gave her it.

He noticed that his old core was there alongside with his new one, but its tentacles didn't survive the trip through time. He didn't remember much of what happened after he stabbed himself with the wakizashi, and he only recalled seeing a blue disk of magical energy and a house from above. It seemed that he would have to re-sprout the tentacles if he wanted to survive the attack Voldemort would be commencing.

He also noticed that his occlumency shields were down on very low, probably on a novice's level, and he sighed to himself at the arduous work in front of him. To build them up from a novice's level to a master's level would only take two weeks with his experience, but to build his shields and expand his memory to the point of it being like it was before he travelled back through time, it would take years.

He had thought of all this before he travelled back, and he had predicted that his occlumency would suffer, because the brain wouldn't be the same. He had calculated that if he dedicated six hours per day to building his shields and increasing his brainpower, he could reach a master's level in only two weeks, but he would need nine months of six hours per day meditation for his shields and brainpower to be at a level Voldemort would be helpless against.

However, he hadn't expected that the tentacles from his core would disappear. They would take an additional month to be regenerated. So it seemed that after ten months of hard work he would be ready for Voldemort. He just needed to constantly know what the day was. And one day when he was approximately nine months old and just finished with the preparations of his occlumency and moved to core manipulation, he seized a golden opportunity.

His father was carrying him around the house, showing him magical items in the household and explaining their uses. Even though James knew his son didn't quite understand what he was talking, his wife said to talk to him normally, so he could learn how to speak faster. She even prohibited talking in a baby voice and talking gibberish around Harry, because she figured that way the baby would learn to pronounce the words wrong.

As his father sat down on the desk in his study and explained about his work as an Auror and all the important files he kept in the room, Harry's little eye spied his father's magical desk calendar. It was a magical calendar slash organiser and Harry's little fists quickly grabbed the magical item. With it, he would know exactly when Voldemort would come knocking on the front door, and he would be prepared.

"No, Harry, that's daddy's calendar. Here, let me put it back." his father said as he saw the calendar in his boy's little hands. Harry soon found the calendar torn out from hands and resting back on the desk.

"_Why is he being so difficult? I'm only trying to save his and his wife's lives_" he thought. He would hate doing this, but what must be done he would get done. So he took a big breath and started wailing. Tears sprung from his eyes and trailed down his cheeks, the image of his parents dying again making his baby instincts spill tears like a grey cloud spilled rain.

"What did you do now?" asked an exasperated Lily as she entered James' office and walked around the desk before taking Harry in her arms.

"Nothing. He was touching my organizer, and I took it from him. He could delete an important meeting and leave me without a job!" he said.

"Really, James. He probably sees it as a toy. Why don't you give it to him, just for an hour, and you could get another one for him right now while I watch him and make sure he doesn't delete anything, and we will switch them while he is asleep." said Lily while she was wiping Harry's teary eyes and snot filled nose.

And so Harry got his father's organizer for the night, and in the morning he woke up with a brand new one in his crib. Soon after, everybody knew that the organizer was his favourite toy, and that one better not touch it while he was looking, because they would get a wailing of their life, and even a burst of accidental magic that made their hands burn.

===== July 31, Year 1981 =====

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOUUUU, HAPPY BIRTHADAY TO YOUUUU, HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR HAAARYYY, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOUUUU!" the adults sang in unison, and when they finished Harry clapped his little hands once, pleased that the infernal noise was gone.

His father was holding him in his hands, and they were facing a cake with a single candle on it. His mother was right beside him with a knife, waiting for the candle to be blown so she could cut the cake to pieces and offer one to every guest they had. There weren't that many guests. The Marauders were all there, and it was the first time for Harry to see the traitorous rat, but he tried not to look at him or think about him, knowing that at this point he couldn't do anything about it. Sirius was in the happiest mood Harry had seen him ever, and even Remus was grinning from ear to ear. Albus Dumbledore was there, quietly observing him, and Amelia Bones, his father's boss, was also there with a small smile on her face.

"Come on honey, blow the candles and make a wish." said Lilly, before she pointed at the candle and made blowing noises. Harry turned towards the candle, and made a wish for his parents to stay alive until he was at least forty. He took a big breath and blowed at the candles. The room drowned in a cacophony of clapping sounds, and his mother plucked up the candle before she proceeded to cut the cake in equal pieces.

The guests all discussed this and that while they ate the cake, and as an unspoken agreement, no one mentioned the war that was going on outside the celebration. Each of the guests requested to hold little Harry for a little while. Children, especially babies in the Wizarding World, were treated with great respect, so it was unheard of to tread a child badly. After all, the children were their future. That was why Voldemort was considered the worst Dark Lord in the past several centuries, because not even Grindewald or Salazar Slytherin had stooped so low as to harm and kill innocent babies.

===== Halloween, Year 1981 =====

"Lily, take Harry and go!" yelled James as he started transfiguring the furniture in the living room into animals that would aid him in the battle that was sure to come.

"But, James-" said Lily, but she was cut off as the house started to shake, reminding them of the rapidly falling wards around the perimeter.

"I'll hold him off. Go!" he said, his wand never stopping for a rest, continuously moving and transfiguring chairs into wolves and sofas into bears.

"Dada!" wailed Harry from his mother's arms, but James didn't budge or turn around.

"JUST GO!" he roared as the wards gave another shake. Lily, her vision blurry with tears, raced up the stairs as she heard the front door blow up. She reached for the emergency portkey that was on the dresser in Harry's room, but she quickly found out that Voldemort had raised anti apparition and anti portkey wards of his own, not giving anybody a chance to run. She pondered running out on foot from the window, but realized that all the brooms were in the shed outside, and she was on the first floor of the house. She opened up a drawer and took a small white chalk, ready to start the ancient love protection ritual, when her world went black.

Harry lowered his arm after firing a wandless spell that was similar to the regular stunner at his mother. He knew it was too late for his father, but he wouldn't let her die too. Tears streaked his cheeks as he wandlessly levitated her to the corner behind the door, and shot an ancient wandless Japanese spell called "True Invisibility" at her prone body. It would protect her from any magical scanners and the naked eye as long as she stayed still, and since she was knocked out cold, she wouldn't be moving until someone woke her up. He heard a final thump from downstairs before silence settled in the house, indicating his father's death. Fresh tears slipped from his eyes and traveled down his cheeks as he wailed in misery.

He stopped wailing as Voldemort opened the door magically and looked at Harry sitting in the middle of the room, his back propped on the crib behind him. Voldemort kept his wand up as he looked around the room, subtly casting detection spells before finally noticing that the mudblood bitch was gone.

"So, your mother abandoned you, just like the mudblood whore that she is. This makes my task easier." he said. He pointed his wand at Harry and his red eyes shined malevolently.

"The Fates have another thing coming if they think I can be stopped by a small, filthy, sniveling, one-year old child. Goodbye, Harry Potter. Avada Kedavra." said Voldemort in his high and cold voice. In the moment his mouth uttered the word 'Avada', Harry started rotating his magical core as he had done many times before and looked at the door, uttering an amazed 'Dada?'.

Voldemort took the bait as his head swiveled to the door, looking for a ghost or a shade of James Potter, but his wand never left Harry. The spell shot out of his wand. After he saw that there was nobody at the door, he turned his head back to the boy, only to see a sickly green light strike him in the chest. He wailed in anguish as his fractured soul left his body, creating a shock wave that shook the house and made the wall behind Harry crumble and break outwards, the chunks of broken brick falling and embedding themselves in the soft grass of the lawn. Voldemort's body turned into ash, leaving behind a wailing black mist with red eyes. The black shadow didn't linger for long, but shot out of the hole in the destroyed wall and disappeared in the dark night.

Harry looked at the ashes and spotted a small part of the mist still lingering. It slowly started creeping toward him, and Harry had to act quickly, lest he be turned into a horcrux again. He lifted both his arms and started moving them in circular fashion, as if he was making a snowball. After he unclasped them again, a glass sphere was cupped in his hands. It glowed blue as it sucked the black wisp of smoke in its center. Harry took the ball in his hands and started crawling toward the edge of the room as fast as he could, approaching the gaping hole left by the crumbled wall. He crawled to the edge and seated himself, taking a small breather before he lifted a tiny hand up in the air and concentrated.

A huge dragon of Fiendfyre erupted from his hand, making the air around it simmer from its heat. Harry was surprised that the cursed fire took a shape, because, although he had excellent control of the curse in his previous life, it had never formed in to an animal. It looked exactly as the pommel of the wakizashi that took him back: a long serpentine body; four limbs, front ones shorter than the rear ones; two huge leathery bat-like wings; a head with unseeing eyes and two spikes protruding backwards, and a wickedly spiked tail.

He quickly banished the ball high in the open air, and commanded the dragon to eat it and destroy it. The dragon surged toward the glass ball with its mouth opened, and passed through it. The screams of the piece of soul Voldemort left could be heard in the silence of the house. The dragon quickly disappeared as soon as Harry wished it to, like closing a valve on a flamethrower.

He was distracted from his thinking by a sharp pain in his right forearm. He looked down at his hand and saw his flesh sizzling as if someone or something was branding him with a branding iron. He shut his eyes as the pain increased, and uncontrolled whimpers left his mouth. Just as the burning sensation and pain reached a crescendo, it completely stopped. After the pain stopped, he saw a tattoo on his forearm, and sucked in a breath. A golden dragon with green eyes and spread wings stared back at him from his forearm. It was deadly and beautiful, and Harry was left confused but happy, curious but scared at what his mother was going to say when she saw it.

That reminded him of his mother, so he sighed and turned around crawling to Voldemort's 'leftovers', a black robe, a wand and a big pile of ashes. He took the wand and wrapped a small fist around it, ignoring the sick feeling it invoked in his gut, before he continued crawling towards his mother. He stopped in front of where she was supposed to be, took a breather and waved the wand, cancelling the spell that kept her hidden. She appeared sprawled in front of him, her red hair fanning out of her head and draped casually over the wooden floor. He would have to play this as innocently as he could.

"We'kup! We'kup!" he said in his irritating baby voice as he tapped his mother on the forehead with the wand of the monster he just defeated, casting a silent 'rennervate'. His mother's eyes snapped open and she bolted upwards, dislodging the wand from his weak fist and hurling it toward the wall, from which it bounced off, fell to the floor and rolled under a bookcase. She immediately took her wand out of her sleeve, took Harry in her free hand, pressed him to her bosom and faced the empty room.

After seeing that the room was empty, and noticing the missing wall and the pile of robes and ashes near the center of the door, she stood up shakily and checked the hallway behind her. It was empty as well. She didn't know what happened. One minute she was preparing a ritual, to sacrifice her life in order to save her son's, and the next one her son was waking her up in a half destroyed nursery. She checked him for any wounds, but all she found was a tattoo on his forearm in the shape of a golden dragon, though it didn't look like any dragon she ever saw or read about. She heard soft footsteps in the hallway, and her wand snapped a silent stunning spell at the intruder without hesitation.

She saw the headmaster effortlessly dodge the spell, and she blushed for her outburst. As the headmaster entered the room, his eyes looked grim at the destruction that lay before him. He had found James dead and crucified on the wall in the living room, and he was shaken and afraid for Lily and Harry, even though he had seen things that were much more gruesome in the last war, the war against Grindewald.

"Are you okay, Lily?" asked Albus, a worried and grim tone to his usually jubilant and grandfatherly voice.

"Yes, Albus. We're both without any apparent injuries. Did James-" said Lily, but her voice broke at the very thought of what might have happened to her husband.

"I'm- I'm sorry Lily. He didn't make it." said Dumbledore in a tired voice. It was times like this that he felt the full burden of his years weighing down upon him.

"Here is a portkey for you. You should get checked by Poppy as soon as possible. Can you tell me what happened here?" asked Albus after getting himself together.

"I was taking a white ritual chalk from the dresser over there before I blacked out totally, as if someone stunned me in the back. Next thing I know someone taps me with a wand on my forehead, I hear Harry telling me to wake up, and I bolt upright." she said shakily.

"Alright. You take the portkey and I'll stay here and await the Aurors and Obliviators." said Albus before Lily activated the portkey and disappeared.

He sighed when he was alone in the room and cast a wide range detector spell, one that he learned from an Unspeakable after he defeated Grindewald.

Magical signatures appeared in bright colors around the room, and Albus' mind started to divine their meaning. An unknown spell travels toward the dresser, presumably hitting Lily in the back, before she is levitated to a corner of the room, behind the door. Another unknown spell is cast at her.

The unforgiveable killing curse is cast at the middle of the room, where presumably Lily left Harry in order to do some ritual that would protect him. A burst of raw magic in the center of the room, from Harry, follows before the killing curse bounces off and strikes the caster. Raw magical power, in a much larger quantity, from Voldemort this time, floods the room, and from that point on it is impossible to tell if there were any more spells cast. One thing was clear; the only people in the room were Lily, Harry and Voldemort. He checked the discarded robes and ashes in the pile left behind, and concluded that Voldemort's body turned to ashes once it was hit by his own killing curse, because of all the extremely dark rituals he went through. There was only one other case when someone's body was turned into ash as a side effect of the killing curse, and that particular Dark Lord had created a horcrux, and later restored his body in another dark ritual. His face paled at the implications. There was a good chance that Voldemort had somehow learned how to create a horcrux and had created one, meaning that now they were facing an immortal enemy.

===== Halloween, Year 1981 =====

Lily arrived at the infirmary of Hogwarts, and tripped the alarm ward Poppy had set up on her fist day as a matron in Hogwarts, this way she would know immediately if someone needed help. Poppy came hastily from her office and started fussing over Lily.

"I don't think there is anything wrong with me Poppy, I'll just need a calming draught." said Lily after she relayed the attack on her home that happened not half an hour ago. Poppy nodded in understanding and fetched a vial of calming draught from the cabinet in her office. After Lily finished the vial of potion, Poppy took out her wand.

"Just to make sure dear." she said, but Lily shook her head as she settled Harry in her lap more comfortably.

"I think it would be best if we waited for the Headmaster to arrive. Last time he tried to scan Harry, he was thrown back like a rag doll and only his quick battle reflexes saved him from splitting his head on the wall behind him." said Lily, and Harry felt embarrassed that his magic had reacted that way towards his first and only mentor, but that was before he received the memories from his previous life.

Albus appeared in the infirmary with a portkey in his hand and turned around to face them. He took several slow steps toward them, afraid that he would provoke Harry, but after seeing that Harry wasn't giving any signs of accidental magic, he stepped forward more boldly and took a seat near the bed on which Lily was resting.

"Poppy, have you checked them for any injuries?" asked Albus with concern. Even though it wasn't Voldemort's style, there were several dark curses that he knew of that would display no outer symptoms for months, but they would be destroying the magical core and the person's insides.

"Not yet, Albus. Mrs. Potter only took a calming draught. She decided to wait for you for a thorough scan, something about Harry's abrupt and violent accidental magic." Pomfrey explained, although she looked suspicious of Lily and her claims.

"Ah, yes, Harry's defensive wild magic. Alright, leave him on the bed and step back while I cast the scanning charm." said Albus and Poppy and Lily obeyed, leaving Harry alone on the bed while they took several paces back. Albus quickly cast the charm, right before enacting his strongest shield to protect him from whatever wild magic the small baby threw at him. However, even as the scanner's information came in his mind's eye, no retaliation came back from the baby. The results he had gained from the scanner were identical to the ones he received fifteen months ago, just after Harry's birth. And they were just as strange and baffling.

Apparently, there were two identities, two separate beings living inside the same body. But what was most interesting though, there were no signs of possession, and the relationship between the two souls was not a parasitic one, but a symbiotic one, something akin to what happens to an animagus after his first transformation. But the crucial difference was that the animal inside an animagus didn't have a soul, didn't have any thoughts of its own but the very basic instincts. The entity in harry had a soul, a thinking mind of its own, and it was powerful. The results of the magical core of the baby were also baffling, as the power was much greater than the average power a newborn should have.

Little did Dumbledore know, but Harry had two magical cores. One that was just above average in power for a newborn baby, and another one that was slightly more powerful and denser than Dumbledore's own core. That's why the scanner showed incorrect results. It became confused as to which core to analyze, so it gave the arithmetical average of the sum of the two cores, displaying a power level that was slightly above that of the recently deceased James Potter. However, there was one thing Dumbledore did guess correctly, the results of Harry's magical power would grow slowly. That was because the scanning spell that Dumbledore used would show the increase of the average power of the two cores, so it would only detect half of the real growth of Harry's magical power, because the core he brought from his previous life was fully grown, even though the core he was born with in this life had a lot of growing to do.

"Very perplexing. Harry has no injuries or curses on him, but I detected something most unusual about him. He is the same power level that James, may his soul rest in peace, had just before his death. However, I do not think that all that power is solely Harry's, for there is another being living inside him." said Dumbledore slowly. That is when Lily exploded.

"What?!?! Is my baby possessed? Albus, you must help my baby! I lost my husband today, I cannot lose Harry too." she said in desperation as tears started to leak from her eyes, despite the calming drought she drank not fifteen minutes ago.

"Lily, you misunderstood. Harry is not possessed. The relationship between him and the being within him is not parasitic, but symbiotic. Think of it like an animagus form. I do not know what the being is, for only Harry can find out, and he would have to be taught occlumency." said Albus in a gentle and persuading tone, trying to placate Lily.

"Now, lie down on the bed and let me check you for any injuries." said Albus as he gently guided her to the bed. She cradled Harry against her chest before she lay down on the bed. Albus cast another scanning charm on her and as the results appeared in his mind's eye, his eyes started twinkling.

"Well, there is no curse on injury on you, although I'm quite surprised to find another being inside you." he said calmly.

"What? I'm possessed too?" she said in disbelief.

"No, not possessed. Pregnant." Albus said and his eyes twinkled as he saw her gloomy face tuning into one with a radiant smile on it.

"Oh, my God. I'm pregnant again. You hear that Harry? You're going to be a big brother soon." she said, the sadness completely leaving her mind as the happy news settled in it. Harry couldn't believe his ears. His mother was pregnant. He was going to have a sister, or a brother, or maybe even a twin combination of both. Even though he had people in his life that he had considered brothers and sisters, still, blood was blood, and nothing could ever replace that. He would soon have someone to be happy with and sad with without feeling like an imposter. Things were getting better by the minute. A small smile appeared on his face as his mother started singing to him, and he closed his eyes in content as he slowly started to drift off to sleep.

* * *

"I went to the ministry today, and did as you asked me to. I was quite surprised when you informed me that Sirius was in fact not your secret keeper. Aurors are tracking Pettigrew's footsteps as we speak. I had also told the Wizengamot and the Minister that I was at your house for tea and that I was the one to banish Voldemort, and they believed me. However, I was not able to persuade them to release the control of the Potter Family Vault to you, as they started clinging to loopholes in the law, stating that there must be a male heir who is of age in order for the family vault to be open to the family. I'm afraid all you, Harry and the unborn baby have is the money in Harry's trust vault, and I don't think it will be enough to enroll both children in Hogwarts and live comfortably at the same time. Of course, I will help as much as I can, and I'm sure Sirius would not think twice in helping you and his godson, even if it's only a monetary help." said Dumbledore tiredly.

He had argued with the Wizengamot for more than an hour, but with little results. The old families had been afraid to let a muggleborn control that much money, even if it was only temporary. Of course, most of the women in the session had tried to support Lily's request, but they were few. Everybody knew that the Wizarding world was a patriarchic society, and women, especially muggleborn women were ostracized.

===== September 24, Year 1982 =====

Harry sat in his walker in the living room, drumming his fingers on the elbow rest, deep in thought. His mother had paid half of the repairs for the damage caused by Voldemort's attack from his trust vault, and he knew that now his family was headed to a crisis. Now, the living room was bare, since much of the furniture was destroyed when Harry's father, James battled Voldemort. The destroyed furniture was removed and most of the paintings in the house were auctioned off, but that still didn't cover the cost of the repairs.

He had heard his mother's monetary predicament, and he realized that he hadn't thought about money before travelling to the past. Indeed, while the money in his trust vault had been more than enough to last him for sixteen years before he got full control of the Potter finances, he didn't need to pay for shelter, food, water or electricity while he stayed at the Dursley's. Now however, that money would need to last him - a toddler, his mother, a full grown witch and his unborn sibling, or siblings, for sixteen years. This was the first oversight on his behalf. If he had only researched the stock market before he left, he would have the means to quadruple the money in his trust vault now. But he had been overjoyed by the idea of seeing his parent's and having another shot and he had missed that golden opportunity. He giggled. Golden opportunity to quadruple his gold.

He didn't know how much money Sirius had in his vaults, but then again, Sirius was the one that supported Remus. So, Sirius was out of the question. The headmaster would help them out a bit, but a single mother with two or more kids to raise would require more than the headmaster could afford to give. He knew how much, or better said, how little the headmaster was paid. After all, he had planned on succeeding Albus as the headmaster of Hogwarts.

Harry realized that there wasn't anyone to help him and his mother in this predicament. His mother getting a job was out of the question, since she was pregnant, and there wasn't anything called Voldemort's Victims Relief Fund in the Wizarding World. Come to think of it, the Wizarding World was the reason he and his mother were in this mess in the first place. _They_ couldn't deal with Voldemort, _they_ didn't have a Voldemort's Victims Relief Fund and _they_ were the ones that denied his mother her own money. He sighed. He would have to think about this more thoroughly. There was always a solution to any man made problem. Always.

He would have to deal with the money problem later, because as a toddler there was no way he could make money. There was a ringing sound echoing all around him, and his mother turned off the stove she was cooking on in order to open the front door. He heard unintelligible mumbling before Sirius stepped in, dressed from head to toe in black. They settled in the living room, in which Harry was conveniently overlooked, and started talking.

"Lily, I have some distressing news for you." said Sirius, his face completely serious for once.

"What is it Sirius?" asked Lily, concerned over what life would throw at her this time. Sirius paused to gather his thoughts and pick the proper words to say what he wanted to say.

"I caught Snivellus looking around yesterday. He was on your property, spying on you, Lily. I think he knows that Dumbledore wasn't the one that banished Voldemort. Furthermore, I went through several contacts around Knockturn Alley, and when I asked them about him, they all told me the same thing. He's a Death Eater, Lily. Actually, I found out that he was the one that overheard the prophecy and spilled it to Voldemort." said Sirius solemnly. Harry was quiet. He already knew all of this, and he suspected that since his mother was alive now, the obsessed Snape couldn't be far away.

"I know Sirius. Something was wrong with him ever since our O.W.L.s. I should have known that he was nothing but a Death Eater. God, I hate him!!" Lily nearly shouted in frustration, before sighing and calming down.

"I don't want you to stay unprotected now Lily. If Snape knows, probably the other Death Eaters know that Harry was the one to bring Voldemort down. I don't want to intrude, but I think it would be best if I stayed with you from now on." said Sirius.

"Sirius, I can take care of myself, thank you very much." she replied icily. For the first time since his father's death, Harry saw Sirius smile.

"I know that Lils, but the fact that you are pregnant and several Death Eaters know where you live is forcing me to protect you, no matter if you want my protection or not." said Sirius. Lily calmed down before she nodded once in agreement. Sirius sighed once he accomplished his task, and leaned back, relaxing into the couch.

"So, when will you move in." asked Lily without looking at Sirius.

"I can move in right now. I got all that I need in my old Hogwarts trunk, and I have the trunk shrunken and in my pocket." he said as he removed a wooden box the size of a cigarette pack from one of the pockets in his robe.

"Okay. You go ahead and take the room next to our… my room." said Lily before she sniffed. Harry almost groaned before he caught himself and remembered that he was listening in. This was the hundredth time his mother remembered that his father was dead and started crying. Usually he would walk over to her and hug her, reminding her that life moved on, and that she needed to remain strong. Fortunately, Sirius was there to calm her down.

"Oh Lily. Come on now. You have to be strong. He died protecting you. He died so you could live. Stop wallowing in misery and remember him fondly. He wouldn't want you to cry over him." said Sirius while embracing Lily and rubbing her back as she hid her face in the crook of his neck and spilled bitter tears.

"I know that Sirius. I'm trying… but… God it's hard. I feel so empty and confused and lost. He always knew what to do next. I don't even know what to do now. I'm pregnant and I have to take care of Harry. I can't get a job with two children at home, and I don't know how I'm going to make it financially." she said, her voice muffled from pressing her face to his shoulder.

"Oh, you silly, silly witch. You can always ask me for money. I have more than I know what to do with it." said Sirius in a deep chuckle. Lily sat up straight and wiped the tears from her eyes before shaking her head.

"I… I can't take your money, Sirius. I-" she started but she was interrupted by a stern look from Sirius.

"Tell me Lily, do you know how much money I have in my family vault?" asked Sirius in a stern manner. Lily was clearly surprised, because she had never seen him behaving like this. In the end, she decided that shaking her head would be enough of an answer.

"Let's be real. I have around ninety million galleons. Ninety _million_ galleons! And you need… What? A hundred and fifty _thousand_? _Two_ hundred thousand? That is not even half a percentage of what I have. And who would I give it to if not you, Lily? Hm. Who do I, Sirius Black, have on this world. I have no kids, no close friends, bar Remus who is too prideful to take money from me because he knows he cannot give them back, and I don't have a wife to give it to. Who am I going to give all that gold to? My cousin Narcissa, that married a Death Eater? My deranged cousin Bellatrix, who tortures and kills muggles just for the kick of it? There is always Andromeda, but she hasn't written me ever since she escaped her marriage contract, got married to a muggle and got disowned by my mother. All I have is you, my godson Harry, and that little toddler sleeping upstairs." said Sirius in a long speech. Even Harry, that hid behind the sofa on his walker raised his eyes. How come he never heard Sirius being so serious? And how come anytime Sirius came to his thoughts, that stupid pun always popped into mind uninvited? Little Harry shrugged his narrow shoulders.

"Al- Alright, Sirius. But I swear, as soon as Harry hits seventeen, we are paying back that money. With interest." she said with conviction.

"Bah, you don't even have to return the money. Believe me, I don't need the money. They can only buy superficial things. Things that can be replaced. They can never buy things that matter." said Sirius with a hollow look in his eyes.

"That's true. But since when you were so… I don't know… insightful? Wise?" asked Lily with a small smile, trying to get that faraway look in his eyes disappear. To her chagrin, it only deepened and intensified.

"Oh, I think I was always like this. Life wasn't easy for me with the family I had. Bunch of nuts, the lot of them. I guess I always acted as a child because at Hogwarts, there wasn't anyone that could really stop me from being one. At home I always had to be proper; always cold and distant. Always look indifferent and always nod every time blood purity came in question. At Hogwarts there was none of that crap. Didn't have to go to bed early, was never threatened with severe injury and pain or even made to do something I didn't want to. So the mask of a carefree joker slipped on my face easily. But it was always just a mask, to hide how unhappy with life I've always been. James knew it, Remus knew it, but no one else did." answered Sirius, then a new look in his eyes settling in as he talked, a look of deep depression.

"Oh, come on now. Your life isn't all that bad. All the laughs you had, all the pranks you did-" she said, but she was cut off.

"The pranks were just to lighten my mood. In fact, I remember, in the first week of our first year, James saw me depressed, and immediately came up with a way to bring me out of it. On that day I gained two brothers. James and Remus. James is now gone, and Remus is grieving all by himself, as it is the way of the werewolf. I… I'm all alone again." Sirius said. Lily was biting her lip by now, and she didn't know what to say.

"Well… What about… What about all the girls you dated? I'm sure that you always had a great time with them. Am I right?" asked Lily in a little voice.

"Oh, Lily… They were never… They were just distractions… It was never serious… They weren't…" Sirius fidgeted around, and suddenly became twitchy and nervous. Lily looked suspiciously at him, before a wide grin settled on her face.

"They were never… what? Or should I say… Who?" she asked with a wicked grin, hoping that Sirius would be too busy fidgeting and blushing to remember just how depressed he was.

"No. Anything but that. Don't make me say it." mumbled Sirius with wide eyes.

"Oh, come on Sirius. You can tell me. They weren't who? Who? Just say it." teased Lily while jabbing him softly and pushing his shoulder, teasing him.

"They were never you!" said Sirius suddenly. Lily froze as soon as she hear that. Sirius stood up and started pacing the room, mumbling 'I'm going to burn in hell for this.' under his breath. Lily's mouth was still hung open in surprise as she watched him pace around the room nervously.

"You will never know how hard it was for me. I have never told anyone this. Not even James. We both started fancying you in our fourth year. I was going to approach you right before Christmas, but James… James… he… he claimed you." he said in a defeated whisper. Lily looked confused.

"Claimed me? What do you mean claimed me?" she asked in a confused and disbelieving whisper.

"Ahhh. You don't know much about the Marauders, but we had several rules. One of them was the rule of claiming, invented to stop fights between us. Basically if a marauder wanted something for himself, and didn't want to share it with the group, he 'claimed' it. If another one wanted the same thing, he would claim a 'conflict of interests'. Now there are two ways to handle a conflict, in a democratic way or in a war. Democracy was basically trading one thing you had already claimed for the thing you wanted. The war, well, the two marauders would get in a friendly duel with a set of rules, and the winner got his 'claim' approved. We never traded for you or fought over you, because when James claimed you, I… I kept silent. He… God… He was like a brother to me. I understood that you meant much to him, so, I… urgh… how can I say this… I... I sacrificed the chance for any romantic relationship with you, so that… so that he could be happy. With you." he finished and closed his eyes before he took a deep breath.

"So… So you… loved me too?" asked Lily in a disbelieving and confused whisper.

"Ahhhh. Loved you, love you. You don't know how it feels, when every time you are… with a woman… you bite your lip. And they giggle afterwards, and they think it's sexy. But they don't know. They never know that… that the reason you bite your lip is because… because you already know whose name you will cry out. One name; your name. And you don't know, Lily. You cannot imagine how it is like when… when I catch sight of you and James kissing. And you don't know what it is like. And I pray that you never know. Never know all the feelings that are running through you in a situation like that, ripping you up inside over and over again, conflicting each other and… and confusing you to the point where you don't know if your life is worth living anymore. First, you get jealous, see, and the primitive part of your mind screams out 'mine' and you suddenly want to grab you best friend, your brother, and… and rip his jugular out with your bare hands. Then there is sorrow, depression, knowing that you will never have what you want… what you love. And anger… oh such anger at yourself, because you were the one that decided to just give up." said Sirius in a strangled voice, pacing around the room like a trapped animal. A trapped man, trapped in his own failure. He suddenly stopped, took a big breath and turned around, a small ray of hope in his eyes.

Lily was right there, beside him. The hope in his eyes shined a little brighter, but it was soon diminished as Lily's hand softly whistled through the air, before landing on his cheek with a resounding slap. He didn't even move, didn't blink, but stared at her with hollow, defeated eyes. Lily stared back defiantly into those eyes.

"Get out of my house!" she said heatedly. And Sirius just nodded.

"I'll… I'll just send you a letter with the account number in Gringotts, and… and send Remus to… watch over you." he said, before he turned around and walked away. He opened the front door, turned around, as if to say something, but thought better of it, and walked out, closing the door behind him softly. Harry stared at the coat hanger, where Sirius had forgotten his rain coat. A single tear trickled down his left cheek. His godfather died a thousand times that night.

* * *

Sirius Black walked down the street in Godric's Hollow. A single tear formed in his eye, but he blinked before he wiped it off with his sleeve in one jerky and furious motion. It was nothing new to him. His life could be defined in one word. Misery. He didn't know what he was thinking when he started rambling in front of Lily like that. He didn't know what he was expecting Lily's reaction to be. He should have been expecting what had happened. He should have kept his mouth shut. It didn't matter right now though. It never mattered. Nothing ever mattered. And nothing will ever matter. So he started reciting out loud, a poem he wrote in the summer after his fifth year in Hogwarts, when he was cooped up in his room in Grimmauld's Place.

"The Meaning of Life by Sirius Black

Like leaves in the wind through time we are blown.  
To live we are meant, to die we are born.  
Where are we going and can we get there?  
What are we doing and why do we care?

Time buries us, in more ways than one.  
We get older and older and then we are gone.  
People remember us a while at least,  
but then act like we didn't even exist.

Life? It's simply a sum of defeats.  
Fall of an empire with front row seats.  
You ask for the meaning before it is gone.  
You asked for a meaning? It doesn't have one."

And with a crack, Sirius Black dissaparated from the empty street.

* * *

A/N: People, this is my first crack at Angst and real Romance (not that crap from Soul Reaver). Please leave a review with your honest opinion. If it was good, i can continiue persuing this... genre... trail of thoughts... whatever. So don't forget to **REVIEW!!!**


	3. A Good Deed

A/N:First of all, I'm sorry I haven't updated any story for a month. I went on vacation, then I had some trouble with my P.C. and then some other stuff came in the way of writing. Wow. It's so hard to write when you have multiple stories to be working with. I just started two new stories that won't be seen on any website until I finish all these stories. One of these two is crossover, HP and Chronicles of Riddick, and it shows a lot of promise, since the story is a bit dark and I think that dark stories are my forte. Soul Reaver will be updated next, in another day or two, so wach out for that one. Any way, thanks for all the wonderful reviews. And don't forget to send many more, since i haven't received a single one in what seems a week. So, enjoy the story and _**REVIEW!!!**_

Oh, and to all those people that say size doesn't matter, this story is living proof of how wrong they are. Ten thousand words per chapter brought more reviews than three thousand words per chapter ever could. It pains me that I have to bore myself with so much unnecessary detail, but there you go. Enjoy and _**REVIEW!!!**_

Disclaimer: see Chapter 1

* * *

Chapter Three: A Good Deed

Harry Potter lay on the soft green grass in the lawn of his back yard. The sky above him was blue, nearly cloudless, just a few scattered clouds here and there. His eyelids were half closed as he breathed in the scent of the freshly mown grass. His life was going great. There were a few bumps in the beginning, as anything he had ever undertaken, but everything was sorted out, even the… uneasiness between his mother and Sirius. He was just glad that Remus stepped in after a week of the two people ignoring each other.

Of course, Remus hadn't known what was going on between the two, otherwise, even he would have kept quiet, and it would be up to Harry to bring the two parts of his family back together. It was silly how easily Remus solved all of their problems with one dialog with each party. He had never known, but Remus seemed quite the diplomat. It didn't seem so odd now that Dumbledore always sent him to negotiate with the other werewolves, even though it was odd back then. He went to Lily to ask about the reason behind Sirius being cooped up in Grimmauld Place and overall miserable, and she nearly chased him out of the house too.

But then he did the unthinkable, something that Harry wouldn't have guts to do, even with his power. He magically bound Lily to her chair and didn't let her go until she answered his questions. Harry was behind the couch again that night.

_~~~~~ Flashback, September 1982 ~~~~~_

"_Incarcerous!" intoned Remus Lupin gently, and ropes flew out his wand tip, wrapping themselves around Lily and the chair she was sitting on._

"_What are you doing?" asked Lily icily, but Remus just took a sip from his tea and looked back at her emotionlessly._

"_You are not getting out of that chair unless you tell me what you did to make Sirius so miserable." said Remus in a conversational tone, as if he didn't have her strapped on the chair and on his mercy._

"_You bastards! Both of you! I never knew you were both so cruel! Playing a joke on a widow! Your best friend's widow! How dare you!" Lily nearly screamed, but Remus looked at her confusedly._

"_Joke? Lily, what are you talking about?" he asked with furrowed brows._

"_Don't play dumb with me, Remus Lupin. Sirius coming over here and telling me he loves me not even a year after I lost my husband. What the hell is wrong with him?" she asked and struggled to release herself from the ropes._

"_Oh, god… Please tell me he didn't…" said Remus in a small voice._

"_Yes he did. He went off about how miserable his life had been and how he backed off so James could 'have me'. If I see him again I will castrate him!!!" yelled Lily. Harry's eyebrows raised on their own accord. Things… emotions were getting quite out of hand._

"_Listen Lily. What Sirius told you was the truth. Nobody else knew that he… you know. Not even Peter, which by then was initiated in the Marauders. How did you… respond to Sirius'… declaration?" asked Remus with furrowed brows, remembering how out of character Sirius was when he got back to Grimmauld last night. Remus had to check him for polyjuice several times._

"_I slapped him and told him that I never wanted to see him again." responded Lily._

"_Ah. You shouldn't have done that." said Remus, his voice a bit strained._

"_Why, it would spoil the joke?" asked Lily sarcastically, but Remus looked at her oddly._

"_For all the times you have said that boys were blind and couldn't recognize a girl with a crush on them, I never would have guessed that you would be just as blind. Lily, it's no joke. He really is in love with you. And there is nothing he can do about it. You know that love, true love, comes unbidden, uncalled, and sometimes, unwelcomed. I don't know what made you think that he or I would play a joke this cruel on you. We had our pranks in the past, but our school days are over Lily. I know that, James knew that, and even Sirius knows that. What made you even think that everything he said was a joke?" asked Remus patiently. Lily got quiet. Her brow was furrowed, indicating that she was confused and thinking furiously back at the situation. She remembered all the emotions on Sirius' face. Sirius could lie with a straight face, but that was as far as his acting skills could go. So, after a weak of the incident, Lily, for the first time, started taking Sirius' words seriously._

"_Oh. I understand. This is the first time that you are thinking about Sirius as a human. A human with feelings. What you thought of him until now… I don't even want to imagine." said Remus slowly before dispelling the ropes that tied her to her chair. He went to the coat hanger, looked at Sirius' coat before he took his and turned around._

"_You know where he's staying. If I were you, I would at least try to apologize. I'll admit that he told me the whole story just this morning, and it was you who pressed to admit his… feelings. Goodbye." he said, before he gently closed the door. Lily put her face in her hands and just sighed._

_~~~~~ End Flashback ~~~~~_

That night, his mother left him alone in the house for fifteen minutes, perhaps for the first time, to visit Sirius. He was actually glad that she did, because his magic was restless. He played with it for a while, making spoons fly around the house. When she got back, she had Sirius in tow. Both were strangely quiet, and the day after they acted as the incident never occurred.

Over the next five years, Sirius replaced Remus as the… guard, as the original plan went and Sirius and Lily became closer and closer to each other. Harry thought that Lily was slowly but surely falling for Sirius, but that was just his… intuition, as his mother never showed any signs of being anything but close friends with Sirius. He moved into the house as a guard at first, but then became a fully fledged father to both Jamie and he.

Now, Jamie was another story altogether, and he went on Harry's nerves. Jamie was his little brother and only sibling, born a week before the incident between Sirius and Lily, and all the feelings of happiness and excitement were gone by the time Jamie started walking and talking. It was not that he didn't love his brother, no, he really did, but the problem was that Jamie was a carbon copy of James when he was younger. Even his name was James. James Harold Potter Junior; named aptly after his father, and twice as selfish, egoistical and all-around prat.

The thing was, Jamie was unbearable. He constantly wanted attention and did foolish things to attract it to him. He would cry, yell, scream, run around the house, hit Harry while he was not paying attention, sing in his annoyingly high voice and last but definitely not least, play pranks on people. None of the kids in Godric's Hollow wanted to play with him, because he was always insulting somebody in order to stay in the spotlight. When his mother would punish him for his mistakes, he wouldn't talk to anybody for days.

As for Harry, he always tried to stay out of trouble. No doubt the things he would be going through when getting to Hogwarts would be giving his mother gray hairs. So he usually stretched and ran around the village or through the nearby woods, or helped his mother for physical activity and read books from the library of Potter manor. Or, at least, he appeared to be reading. He would usually meditate with his eyes open and a book in his hands, but nowadays, he started making plans. He was seven, and he was rapidly approaching the age to go to Hogwarts. But first, his mother would force him to go to elementary school. Since there wasn't one in Godric's Hollow because of the low birth rate of the small village, he would have to go to school to one of the big cities that were nearby.

He got up from the grass and went inside the house, only to find that his brother had eaten his sandwich.

===== September 1, 1987 =====

Harry walked calmly down the long corridor of the school. Every child around him seemed nervous, and some of them even pale on their first day of school. They acted as if this was a slaughtering house, and not a place of learning.

He continued walking until he came across to a classroom with a red seven above the open door. He peered inside the classroom, and spotted perhaps twenty children, most of them running around, playing chase, not even slightly wary of all the sharp desk edges around them. He entered the room slowly, and looked for a place to sit, preferably near one of the calmer children. There were only two children seated, and one of them was spitting on the window and watching the spit slowly trickle down. He sat next the other one and opened his backpack, looking for one of his books. Beginners Mathematics was a boring read, since he knew perfectly well how to add and subtract, so he pulled an advanced textbook, one that was starting where he left off when he accepted the Hogwarts invitation.

"That's an interesting read." said a faintly familiar voice next to him. He turned around and saw a small bushy haired girl with big front teeth smiling shyly at him. He blinked once. And again. And a third time. It never even entered his mind that he might meet Hermione sooner than 1991, and he hoped that they would become good friends early on, very close best friends with Ron thankfully not around.

"Yeah. It's a pretty interesting read. In fact, I've got all the advanced books. You need to be pretty stupid if you can't think beyond basic subtraction and addition. Something like him." Harry said before nodding his head toward the blonde haired boy that kept spitting on the window. Hermione giggled and Harry smiled. Yup, they were going to be best friends.

"I'm Hermione Jean Granger, but you can call me Hermione." she said as she extended her hand. Harry took her hand and shook it smiling.

"Harold James Potter, Harry for short. A pleasure to meet you." said Harry.

"The pleasure is all mine." said Hermione with a smile.

Then the teacher came in the classroom and all the kids sat on their chairs. It was strange for Harry to sit in a classroom and listen to the teacher rambling about something that he learned so long ago, but his attention soon strayed from the teacher's voice and drifted to his left, to Hermione. She looked serious, even on her first day of school, as she listened to the teacher speak about the beginnings of their education. She didn't look like anything special at seven years of age, but Harry knew that her beauty will grow exponentially. He knew that he shouldn't be, but he was strangely attracted to her eyes. Her eyes were light brown, almost golden as they reflected the ample amounts of sunlight that pierced the clear windows of the classroom.

There was something odd about her eyes. They were unfamiliar to him. The Hermione of old was… more withdrawn, as if something tormenting her inside. This Hermione had a vibrant look about her, eagerness in her eyes, more energy, and a lot more happiness. He remembered his old Hermione, her defeated look as she lay in the hospital bed in St. Mungos, a look bereft of life, bereft of happiness, only a small glimmer of hope in it as she explained to him a way to change the past.

"Harry, are you alright?" whispered Hermione to him.

"Yeah, I'm fine." said Harry, and then he realized that a tear was rolling down his left cheek. He wiped it furiously with his sleeve, but Hermione had noticed it before he did.

"Harry, what's wrong?" asked Hermione, a worried look in her eyes. She always worried about him. How blind was he when he couldn't notice that before? She must have liked from the moment she saw him.

"Nothing's wrong, Hermione. I just got something in my eye." lied Harry as he turned away from her, pretending to be wiping his eye.

"You two! Why are you talking to each other while I'm holding a lecture?" asked the teacher in his best stern expression on his face. He was really a bad actor, and Harry knew right away that the man was faking his anger. He wanted to be out of the classroom as much as any of the kids that were seated in the desks.

"I'm sorry sir-" started Hermione in an apologetic tone, but Harry quickly cut her off.

"-but we weren't talking to each other. We were listening to what you were saying." lied Harry.

"Oh? Is that true? If so, then I guess it wouldn't be a problem for you to repeat what I just said." said the teacher, now the anger on his face quite real, because he knew he was being lied to.

"Where do you want me to start?" asked Harry.

"Why don't you start from the beginning?" asked the teacher.

"Alright. Good afternoon children. My name is Alfred Donnelly and I will be your teacher for the next four years. I will not tolerate any tomfoolery in my class, so you best stay quiet and listen to what I have to say. You are at the beginning of your education right now. What is important to keep in mind, is that you can be anything you desire to become later in life. All you need to do is study very hard, and all your dreams will come true. Through discipline and hard work you can achieve anything. Is that enough sir?" asked Harry with an innocent look on his face. The teacher was red in the face, but he just nodded and continued with the lecture.

Hermione was looking at him oddly, but he just shrugged when he met her gaze. She narrowed her eyes at him, and he was sure that questions would follow. An interrogation to be precise.

The last bell ringed, signifying that classes were over for the day, so Harry quickly packed his books in his backpack and rushed out the door. However, Hermione was hot on his heels.

"Harry! Harry wait!" she called after him, and he couldn't do anything but stop and wait for her.

"Harry, is there something wrong?" she asked, her eyes searching his while shining with curiosity and worry.

"What would make you think that there is anything wrong Hermione?" he answered her question with one of his own. He had learned long ago how to deal with Hermione, and curious people in general. As long as you answered their questions with another question, there wouldn't be any extra information slipping out your mouth.

"Well, you got all teary, and then you repeated what the teacher said, word for word. Harry why were you crying and how did you remember exactly what he said?" she said.

"Okay, first of all Hermione, I wasn't crying, and I already told you that I had something in my eye. And about the remembering what the teacher said, how do you know that I had remembered it word for word? Doesn't that mean that you remembered it word for word as well?" asked Harry while looking around for his mother. She wasn't there yet.

"Well… I suppose so…" said Hermione, though she looked insecure.

"Then if you remembered it and I remembered it as well, what's so strange about it?" asked Harry. He spotted the coppery glitter of his mother's dark red hair and smiled.

"Come on, Hermione. Let me introduce you to my mother." he said with a devilish grin as he grabbed her hand and started pulling her towards his mother.

"But Harry, I don't think…" she started, but Harry just waved her off.

"Nonsense! There is nothing to be shy about. Come on, I guarantee you that she isn't going to bite." Harry said just as they reached his mother.

"Hello mum. I'd like you to meet a new friend of mine. This is Hermione Granger; Hermione, this is my mother, Lily Potter." Harry said with a smile.

"Hello dear. You can call me Lily." said Harry's mother as she stretched her hand out. Hermione shook it with an uncertain smile.

"Well, Harry, it's nice to see that you have made a friend so quickly. You know Hermione, I was afraid he wouldn't make any friends since he's such an oddball." Lily said with a small smile.

"Muuum! You know I hate that word! And I'm not an oddball." Harry said in fake frustration. His mother had started calling him that when he started "reading" intensively, but they both knew that Harry liked the pet name his mother had given him, even though some people would be offended if called that. She always spoke that word with pride, because she was happy and proud that her firstborn son took after her, what with being serious with his studies. Jamie on the other hand…

His mother had a soft spot for Jamie. The child reminded her of her late husband, so she didn't have the heart to be very strict with him. The hardest punishment Jamie had endured was being told to go to his room and stay there for three hours. And he took that punishment because he had broken a vase on the mantel of the fireplace in the living room, a vase that was a family heirloom.

If Draco would ever do such a thing, Harry estimated that he would be bunking with the Longbottoms in the Long Term Spell Damage ward of St Mungos as soon as his father found out what he did. Thinking of the Longbottoms, he would have to solve that problem soon. Neville proved himself to be brave and smart at the Final Battle against Voldemort, and without the stress of his Grandmother's expectations on his head, he would reach his potential mush sooner, and perhaps, later in life, even surpass it.

"Stop being so melodramatic, Harry. Sometimes you remind me of your godfather, but I guess you can't be serious all the time. You are a child, an oddball, but a child nonetheless. Come on, we have to get going. I left Jamie and Sirius alone, and I dread what those two are up to right now. Hermione, do you need a lift?" asked Lily. Hermione looked around, but she didn't spot her parents.

"I don't know. My parents are still at work, and I don't want to get in trouble when they find that I left with someone I just met." said Hermione demurely, thinking that she would have to wait at least another half an hour alone in the school before her parents arrived straight from their practice to pick her up.

"No problems Hermione. My mother will give her ID to the security guard, who will copy down the information on it, in case something happens, and then we will call your parent's to… wherever they work at, to make sure there are no problems, and then we'll drop you off." said Harry with a small smile. His mother and Hermione looked at him oddly.

"What?" he asked confusedly.

"And just when did you thought that up?" asked his mother.

"Just now. Come on, we best be on our way." said Harry, trying to evade yet another interrogation.

"Oh honey, you're quite intelligent. I'm proud that you don't flaunt it, but there is no reason to be ashamed." said his mother before giving him a hug.

"Mum! Not in front of my friend!" said Harry, trying to regain what was left of his reputation.

"Oh, honestly. You always give me hugs when we're home. Be yourself, there is no need to act all macho just to impress Hermione. Ladies are impressed by qualities that are there, not qualities which you make them believe that are there. Trust me on this one, will ya?" said his mother and he just relaxed into the hug.

When they arrived home, they found the place to be a total mess. Soon his mother had Sirius cleaning the house, a punishment for goading Jamie into a prank war. Jamie got off with a mild reprimand. If his mother continued that way, Harry was afraid that Jamie would end up in Slytherin House. Of course, there is nothing wrong with being a Slytherin, but the fact that his brother liked the limelight just a bit too much made Harry believe that he would be best pals with Draco Malfoy, the most influential student in Slytherin House, son of a death eater, future death eater and much later in the future, a dark lord. This course of events would have to be prevented from occurring in the future.

Of course, there wouldn't be much rivalry between himself and Draco if he got into Ravenclaw, but Draco could never grow strong enough to resist the urge to join the darkness, to become the darkness. The boy was molded to become a death eater from birth by his father, and a lot of time would be needed to turn him away from that path. He would have to think about it some more. But right then and there he needed to work out a plan on curing the Longbottoms. He knew the method already, but the approach of the situation would have to be addressed with great care, in order to extract as much usefulness from the act. So he sat down and meditated on the problem.

===== Spring, Year 1990 =====

Pei Ling stroked his long beard, which was in essence an overgrown white goatee and mustache. He looked older than one hundred, his hands wizened and wrinkled, and his dark brown, nearly black eyes shined with inner strength and intelligence. He raised his right hand, and for a moment, a glass ring on his middle finger with the initials GD shined in the September sun, before the hand descended quickly and knocked on the double winged wooden door.

The old man waited for several seconds before a small creature with thin limbs and large pointy ears opened the door; a house elf.

"Hello sir. How's Misty helping you?" asked the small elf in a squeaky voice.

"I'm seeking audience with Madame Longbottom." answered Pei Ling in a heavy Chinese accent.

"Who is Misty telling mistress is calling?" squeaked the small elf.

"Just tell her there is an old man at the door with a… proposition for her." said Pei Ling.

The house elf called Misty popped away and popped right back not twenty seconds later.

"Mistress Longbottom is be seeing you now, sir. Follow Misty please." the house elf said before it opened the door wider and waited for the old man to enter. He stepped through the doorway and looked around as the house elf was closing the door behind him. Seventeenth century chandeliers of French design were hung on the high ceiling of the mansion, which from the inside gave the ambient of being in a church. The walls were crowded with pictures of landscapes and portraits, almost all of them moving, and there were tables in the hallway lined with vases, most of them expensive looking. The place just screamed of insanely rich. He followed the elf up a flight of stairs and some hallways, and eventually ended up in a small room with too much furniture in it, and an old woman sitting in a chair opposite a coffee table, with his back towards him.

"I've told you countless times Albus, I simply will not…" said the witch as she stood up and turned around, but her words died in her mouth as she saw that the man in front of her wasn't Albus Dumbledore.

"Oh, I'm sorry; I thought you were someone else. How can I help you?" asked Augusta as she took in the appearance of the old Chinese man in front of her. The man wore silk Chinese grey robes with intricate silver silk patterns all over it. Aside from the clothes, the only distinguishable features about the man were that he was old, Chinese, wore a glass ring on his right hand, which was perched on an ordinary wooden cane.

"No apologies needed Madame Longbottom. My identity has been mistaken for the one of Albus Dumbledore enough times that I have gotten used to it. To answer your question, I'm not here to seek for help, I'm here to offer help." said Pei Ling with a small but respectful bow.

"Offer help? What kind of help Mr…" trailed off Augusta Longbottom, realizing that the old man hasn't introduced himself yet.

"Pei Ling is the name, scholar Pei Ling. Perhaps it is best that we sit down." said the old man, leaning on his cane more heavily now.

"Oh, sorry. How rude of me. Please, sit down." said Madame Longbottom as she gestured to one of the chairs opposite of her. They both sat down and Augusta poured another cup of tea for herself and one for her guest.

"Now, I'm here with a proposition for you, on mine and on the behalf of the Good Deed movement." said Pei Ling after taking a sip from the tea.

"The Good Deed Movement? I'm afraid I haven't heard of it." said Augusta dubiously.

"Understandable, since people do not simply talk around about the movement. Underground movement would be more suitable, but that would sound like a back alley gang. Let me explain. The movement deals with good deeds. How we do that is fairly simple. We have at our disposition a fair amount of knowledge, some of it public, some of it forbidden by governments all over the world. With the help of this knowledge we perform good deeds. We choose one person that has a problem that seems enormous and has no solution in sight, and we help them, thus performing what one would say is a small miracle, or what we like to call, a good deed." explained Pei Ling slowly.

"I see. And what do you ask for return from these people that are in such a great need of help?" asked Augusta with narrowed eyes.

"Not much. For the one performing the good deed a 'thank you' is more than enough. However, before the good deed is preformed, the 'receiver' of the good deed is in debt, but not to the 'performer' or the 'movement', but to another one in need. As you can clearly tell, we are not an organization worried about profit, but a movement aiming for the betterment of our world." answered Pei Ling patiently.

"Intriguing. So, you are hoping to start a chain reaction?" asked Augusta.

"That is correct. Now, I have a debt to pass on to you. I can heal the minds of your son and daughter in law. Do you, Augusta Longbottom, accept the offered help and the transference of the debt?" asked Pei Ling. Augusta looked nervous, as she didn't imagine that this was a thing that serious or big, but nevertheless, her back straitened and she took a deep breath.

"Yes I do." She said firmly. She had vowed to take any and every chance that presented itself in order to bring her son and her daughter in law back. She had spent a fortune on the development of several different methods that could heal their dementia, but there was no success, or if there was, it was a minor one.

The next day Pei Ling visited again, but this time the demented Longbottoms were released temporarily from St. Mungos hospital.

"They are right this way. Follow me please." Augusta said and started walking up a flight of stairs. when they arrived in front of the room Augusta stopped and turned around to face him.

"I'm just curious, but what kind of method will you use to… heal them?" asked Augusta.

"Ah, I wondered if you would ask me. The method is an ancient Cherokee ritual that was created to set to ease the minds of young warriors that had suffered extreme pain and trauma. Although a powerful ritual, it is fairly safe." answered Pei Ling before he pulled out his wand and started tracing runes around the door.

"What are you doing?" asked Augusta with raised eyebrows.

"Don't worry. I'm casting a simple room enhancement ward, which will make the walls, floor and ceiling of the room tougher. I warn you may feel the house shaking just before the ritual ends, but there will be no damage to your property." answered Pei Ling. After he finished with the ward, he entered the room, leaving Augusta to wait by the door.

Upon entering the room Pei Ling put the little piece of wood that was supposed to be a wand in his pocket, and from the other pocket pulled out what seemed a small brown moneybag made of cheap white cotton. He placed it on the floor and waved his hand over it, casting an enlargement charm. The small bag increased in size until it was high to his knees. He pulled from the white cotton bag, which looked to be handmade, a large piece of charcoal, four white candles and a branch of a tree that looked like a wilted and dried up syringa. He waved his hand and the plush carpet on the floor rolled up and settled on the side, leaving the wooden floor bare. He pulled a small red rubber band and used it to tie his hair back, before he took his long white facial hair and tucked it in his undershirt. There would be flames involved in the ritual, and he didn't want his goatee and mustaches up in flames. No doubt he would look ridiculous.

He took the piece of charcoal and drew a circle in the middle of the exposed wooden floor. There would be no runes in this ritual, since Native North Americans didn't have any. They had another way of communicating with magic, one that Pei Ling found much more interesting than drawing runes all day. He moved over to the bed where the Longbottoms lay staring up at the ceiling and bumbling nonsense, and he touched each with an index finger on the forehead. They instantly went to a deep sleep. He didn't want the heads of the subjects to escape the small circle that the magic took place in. He levitated the sleeping forms of the Longbottoms and laid them down on the floor, so that both their heads were in the circle and Alice's legs were pointing towards south while Frank's legs were pointing north.

After he placed them properly, he drew an ellipse around them, and around the ellipse another big circle, and around the circle a square. He opened the two windows that were in the room wide before he placed a candle on each of the corners of the square and lit them all with a wave of his hand. Flames sprung up and burned softly on the tips of the candles as he observed the Longbottoms sleeping quietly. He took the branch of dried up syringa and it the tips of the dried up flowers. A sweet smelling smoke came from the branch, and he took several breaths of it before he started chanting and dancing like a Native American around the two impaired Longbottoms. The total chant took nearly five minutes to complete, and during the loudest section of the chant, the ground shook for nearly fifteen seconds.

He exited the room looking tired with sweat dribbling down his cheeks and soaking his beard. Augusta was still waiting in the hall near the door, and she quickly turned around the room.

"Did it work?" asked Augusta worriedly.

"The magic of the ritual is still at work. I do not advise you to disturb them for the next hour, and it is highly recommended to wait for them to wake up on their own. They will have all the memories of the visits that you and little Neville undoubtedly went on, and they will know that he was their son. I can promise that they will recover. Just let them wake up on their own. Also, I advise not to let Neville see them for at least another day or two. Their appearance is ghastly but they should recover completely in two days." said Pei Ling before he took off the glass ring. As he took it off, a wooden copy of the ring appeared on his finger. He passed the ring to Madam Longbottom and she placed it on her own hand.

"That glass ring is a representation of the debt you owe to someone in great need. You will pick this person or persons for yourself, but you must be sure that their plight is real. For instance, if you wish to give a million galleons to a man begging on a corner, you must know for certain that the man indeed has no home or money or anything of monetary value, and that he has a real need of them. Once you fulfill you debt, you will be able to take the ring off, which will be replaced by a wooden ring, and pass the glass ring and debt on to another. Now, I must take my leave. Goodbye Madame Longbottom." said Pei Ling as he did a small bow to her.

"Thank you, Scholar Pei Ling, and goodbye." said Madam Longbottom and imitated his bow, with her right palm placed on her left fist. Pei Ling almost laughed at the sight of Madame Longbottom trying to imitate his bow, complete with the stuffed vulture in her hat, but he managed to morph his laughter before it got out of his throat into a smile that went almost undetected under his long white beard. He was escorted by Augusta to the front door, who once again thanked him.

He burst off in laughter as he walked down the deserted street, and in the dead of night, his appearance morphed into a young boy nearly half the height of the old Chinese man. His voice rose in pitch until the gruff and wheezy laughter of an old man turned into the melodious if hysterical laugher of a boy no more than nine years old. With a smile on his face and twinkling eyes, no unlike a certain headmaster of a school for wizardry and witchcraft, Harry Potter apparated to his home.

Lily Potter woke up to a disturbingly familiar song. She quickly got out of bed, not even bothering to change her nightdress to a pair of everyday robes, and quietly walked down the stairs and into the kitchen, as if her footsteps could be even heard over the loud music. What she saw in the kitchen nearly made her pass out.

"I FEEL GOOD, TUH-D-DUH-D-DUH-D-D'M, I KNEW THAT I WOULD NOW, TUH-D-DUH-D-DUH-D-D'M, SO GOOD, D'M- D'M, SO GOOD, D'M, I GOT YOU, AUWWWWW…" she heard Harry's voice, perfectly in sync with James Brown's voice and most of the instruments.

An old gramophone was placed on the kitchen table, carelessly cleaned, but the dust from all its years in the attic still visible in some of the trickier corners to clean, playing a very familiar James Brown number. The thing was extremely loud, as if someone cast a sonorous charm on it. But that wasn't what made her jaw muscles and tongue go numb. There were four frying pans set on the stove, pancakes flipping by themselves, a dipper dipping into a big pot of pancake mixture and quickly depositing the mixture into a pan, replacing the pancake that was already finished and floating to a stack of finished pancakes. And in the middle of it, there was Harry, her son, standing on a chair, waving _a wand_ to the beat as if he was the conductor of an orchestra, while singing loudly to the music coming from the old gramophone. She slowly walked closer to him from behind his back and lifted the needle from the record.

"…LIKE SHUGAR AND what?" said Harry as he stopped singing and turned around to see why the music stopped. He saw his mother looking at him with her mouth open.

"Flies, mum. Close your mouth and tell me why stopped the music." said Harry with a grin still plastered on his face.

"Harry… how?" she asked, still trying to figure out how her nine and a half year old son could have such a strong hold on wordless magic, something that wasn't taught in Hogwarts until sixth year.

"Mother, do try stringing _comprehensible_ sentences up, because I'm afraid that with your current communication skills I cannot quite understand what you are trying to say." Harry said, his grin turning cheekier with every word that left his mouth.

"Harry James Potter! Do not 'Mother' me young man. And where did you get that wand?" asked His mother turning red because of being mocked by her own son, even if it was only in jest.

"This wand? I found it on the floor yesterday. I guess it is Sirius'" said Harry while inspecting the wand closely, as if he hadn't noticed it until now. His mother blinked. It came to her mind that magic cast with a wand that was not yours would be difficult at best and that her little boy must be as talented as Merlin himself.

"And how did you cast magic without knowing any spells, with a wand that is not yours? And do you have any idea that casting a spell and being a minor is _illegal_ young man?" she asked, finally realizing the repercussions her son casting magic while being only nine years old. The ministry would be upon her neck any minute now.

"First of all, what did you think I was reading in the library all these years? Spells mother, magical spells from any book I could find. So I know quite a lot of spells. As for the wand not being mine, I guess I have quite the magic touch." said Harry with a grin as he swished is wand behind his back. All the pancakes rose and settled themselves on the four big piles of finished pancakes and the stove turned off.

"Young man, do you have any _idea_ what the ministry is going to do when they find out that you have been casting magic without being of age?" she said sternly.

"Now, now, mum, the ministry cannot even see this place on their magical monitors. The house has many wards on it, so much magic surrounding it that I doubt they would pick up anything that Dumbledore himself can cast, let alone good old me." said Harry with a small smile and waved the wand over his shoulder. The pancakes rose up in the air, floated over to the kitchen table and settled on it. He swished the wand again and the gramophone stopped spinning the record before it grew legs, hopped off the table and scurried away and up the stairs, probably finding a comfortable place in the attic.

"Okay then. But why _cook_ with magic, and why _today_?" asked his mother with a furrowed brow.

"Oh, muuuum. Don't tell me you _forgot_. Scratch that, don't tell me you forgot _completely_!" said Harry with a dismayed look on his face.

"Forgot? Forgot what?" asked his mother with a furrowed brow, trying to remember what she forgot.

"Muuuum. Hermione is supposed to visit today. Her mother and father will come over too. You talked with them on Friday, told them to come over for breakfast today, on Sunday, remember?" said Harry, not believing his mother forgot their plans for today. Her eyes widened before she slapped herself on the forehead.

"Oh, Merlin. I'm sorry sweetie. How could I forget?" she asked herself while hugging a dismayed Harry.

"Never mind that now. Go put on some decent clothes while I clean up the living room and set the table. And please talk to Sirius and Jamie. I don't want my first friend ever to be pranked by either of them while on her very first visit here." said Harry with a slight tremor. Things could go very wrong with muggles in a wizarding house. He waved the wand that his mother had conveniently forgot to confiscate and the kitchen flashed a bright white light, an when it receded, the table was set, the pots were all clean and the stove and working space were all meticulously cleaned. He sure loved those nifty housekeeping spells, especially when they could be chained together. There was a knock at the front door and Harry concealed the wand in the sleeve of his shirt before he went and opened the door. The portraits on the walls started murmuring about muggles, and as soon as he opened the door, every portrait smiled and froze in place. Remarkable pieces of magic, he thought with a grin. There, on the doorstep stood Hermione's parents, Doctor's Dan and Emma Granger, with Hermione slightly behind them.

"Good morning, Doctor, Doctor, Hermione." said Harry with a cheeky grin as he shook Dan's and Emma's hands. Dan tried to conceal his bubbling laughter while Emma just grinned.

"Please come in. The folks are sleeping a little late I'm afraid, the lazy dogs, them. Sit down, make yourself comfortable, dinner is ready and waiting. Waiting for those lazy residents of our abode to climb down the stairs." Harry said as he closed the door behind them. He politely took every ones coats, stopping a little to sniff the collar of Hermione's coat, a little disappointed that it still smelled like shampoo for children and not like that heavenly perfume she wore when she started Hogwarts. He only hoped that she would make the same choice again.

As soon as the Grangers sat in the living room, his mother descended the stairs wearing one of her favorite black dresses. She bought them all when she mourned for his father, James, but then they grew on her, and quickly became her favorites, as black went very well with both her red hair and her green eyes. And then the tragicomic event occurred. The loud sounds of 'the two men stampede' was heard as both Sirius and Jamie descended the stairs in a hurry, plopped themselves in the chairs on the kitchen table and yelled at the same time 'First dibs on the blueberry jam'. His mother rolled her eyes, excused herself before she had the chance to even say hello to her guests and went to the kitchen. She exited the kitchen with her fingers locked around the ears of both Sirius and Jamie, who wore pajamas, had blueberry jam around the mouths, and repeatedly said 'ow, ow, ow'. Harry looked at them and started going red in the face, red with embarrassment. '_Why did it seem like such a good idea to invite the Grangers at the time?_' he asked himself, and he remembered that it was today that he wanted to tell Hermione the secret of magic.

"Err, I'm sorry for my family's… Err… I just wanted to say that I'm sorry you had to see that." said Harry, getting more and more embarrassed by the second.

"Oh, think nothing of it. It's nice to see that your family is… ermm… different? Anyway, better this than have a stuck up family and die of boredom. I mean, you have to live with these people for at least a decade, it might as well be fun." said Hermione with a smile. Dan just snickered while covering his mouth and Emma had a small smile on her face while she shook her head in disbelief. Trust kids to think of nothing else but fun. His mother descended the stairs again and sat down with the guests before greeting them all. They made small talk to which Harry only paid attention to, storing every bit of information in his head, before, finally, Jamie and Sirius descended the stairs again, this time dressed appropriately and walking slowly. No doubt his mother had given them both an earful under a privacy charm.

They all sat down to breakfast, and the grangers complemented his mother on the pancakes, and she blushed in embarrassment, but didn't say anything. Of course, Harry had a big grin on his face, and took the compliment as it was directed towards him. He had learned how to make pancakes long, long ago. After all, it was Dudders' favorite breakfast. After they all finished, the adults (that is his mum and the doctors) sat down in the living room for a cup of tea, while the kids (including Sirius) were left to their own devices. Jamie and Sirius immediately ran outside, probably racing to the shed to grab a broom and go flying, while Harry just wiggled his eyebrows and ran to the library, Hermione hot on his heels.

"Wooow!" Harry heard Hermione exclaim as soon as she set foot in the library.

"This is so cool. You have your own library." she said in amazement as she looked around the bookshelves in the room. Harry nodded with a grin.

"Can I see them? Please? Pretty please?" she begged him with her palms together, her chocolate brown eyes immediately emulating the eyes of the cutest puppy in the world.

"There is a test you have to pass before you can look closely at any of the books, I'm afraid?" Harry said in a serious voice.

"And what test would that be?" asked Hermione.

"Here, hold this stick, point it up and close your eyes." he said to her and gave her Sirius' wand. Hermione looked at him dubiously.

"Trust me Hermione." Harry said as he shoved the wand in her hands, his eyes twinkling in the dim light of the library.

"Okay, Harry, I trust you." she said before she lifted the wand in front of her face and closed her eyes.

"Okay. Now calm yourself and concentrate. Don't think about the books. Think of nothing. Nothing but a small ball of light, just on the tip of the stick you're holding. Imagine it shining through the darkness, like a star in space. Now say Lumos." said Harry in a soft voice.

"Lumos." repeated Hermione after him, and a small light, nearly nonexistent appeared on the wand's tip.

"Very good. Now think of the small star getting bigger. As big as a marble, and still shining in the darkness. You can do it Hermione." said Harry.

"Of course I can do it. It's not that hard anyways." said Hermione with her eyes closed. The small spark of light grew and grew as it became as big as a marble, just like Harry's first lumos charm.

"Open your eyes now Hermione, but don't forget to concentrate on that light." said Harry with a smile on his face, and when Hermione opened her eyes, she saw the small globe of light shining on the top of the wand.

"Wh- How did I do that? How is this possible?" she asked incredulously.

"Magic, Hermione. Magic." said Harry with a happy grin.

"Magic? Magic doesn't exist!" scolded Hermione, though her voice was oddly dreamy, as if she dreamed up all the possibilities of magic at the same moment as the mechanical response to Harry's question left her lips.

"And yet you made the wand glow with the lumos charm anyway. Magic does exist Hermione, and the books you see here are all on magic." said Harry with that famous twinkle in his eyes. Many people thought that the famous Dumbledore twinkle or the twinkle that was in Harry's eyes now was a twinkle of amusement, or happiness even. They were wrong. The twinkle was a twinkle of power. Not magical power, but intellectual power. It only appeared when an extremely knowledgeable wizard or witch explained something to what they deemed was a wizard or a witch with inferior, or what they perceived inferior intellectual power than themselves. It gave a feeling of power, of control, of happiness. It was not a dark trait, merely a trait that showed that the wizard with the twinkle in his eyes loved to teach others something that they didn't know before. And it was even more pronounced when they left the student to figure something out for themselves.

"So, can I look at the books now?" asked Hermione, a spark of curiosity in her eyes.

"Not just yet. There is something else you have to do before you can read the books." said Harry with a grin on his face as he took the wand away from her.

"And what is that?" asked Hermione with raised eyebrows. Oh, how he loved those eyebrows.

"You need to give me a kiss first." said Harry with a cocky grin. Hermione's eyes widened impossibly before she started getting red in the face.

"Urgh. You just made that up!" she accused, her face red, weather because of embarrassment or anger, Harry couldn't tell.

"Yes. Yes I did." said Harry, his cocky grin morphing into a sheepish one.

"Urgh. Okay. But first, you have to close your eyes." Hermione said. Harry, not even knowing why, complied immediately. He pouted his lips outwards as he expected the kiss to land; his neck subconsciously pushed his head forward. And the kiss landed. Just not where Harry expected. He opened his eyes in shock and his hand darted up to wipe the wetness from his nose.

"Oh you, you, you evil witch!" he said in mock anger, with a slight undertone of disappointment that Hermione couldn't possibly catch. Hermione just giggled before she darted between two bookshelves, Harry hot on her heels. The chase soon ended with Hermione lying on the carpet on her back, laughing manically, Harry just above her, propped up on his elbow, his free hand tickling her. They stopped laughing though, and Harry looked Hermione in the eyes, noticing her dazed chocolate brown orbs lost in his eyes. His face slowly neared her face, and just as he was about to kiss her, she blinked and cleared her throat.

"Erm… Harry? Can I see the books now?" she asked in a low voice, and he blinked, once, twice, and just nodded. She stood up and looked around the bookshelves while he sat on the white and soft carpet with glazed eyes, mentally going over the past few minutes.

"_What the hell is wrong with me. She is not even in Hogwarts yet. Hell, I'm not even in Hogwarts yet! Why do I have the urge to kiss her?" _thought Harry furiously, furious with himself. If Hermione was a slower girl, that kiss might have landed, and he would be in a world of shit.

"_Damn it! Damn it! Damn it, Damn it! DAMN IT!"_ the mantra repeated itself in his head as he resisted the urge to roll over on the ground and start banging his fists in the carpet.

"_Remember control Potter. Get a grip, you're pitiful! Alright now. Why is this happening to me? I'm two hundred years old for Merlin's sake! Or am I? I'm in the body of a ten year old, so that must mean… Bloody hormones! For Merlin's sake not again!" _thought Harry as the anger in him bubbled up again. He quickly calmed himself down and thought this over rationally.

"_Okay, hormones will definitely slow us down, but there is no way around them. Not unless you're willing to cut the throats of seventeen twenty year old virgins. Sick dark rituals. Who makes that shit up anyway? Okay Potter, focus. She's driving you mad, you just have to endure it. Focus. Deep breaths. You mustn't force her hand. She'll come to her own. Only one gift each Valentines once you start Hogwarts. Everything else will have to wait. You can do this. You lived two centuries without her, you can manage a few more years."_ his logical side rambled with conviction, and he believed it. He ignored logic only when instincts said to ignore it, and since his instincts almost ruined his world, he would have to trust logic on this one. He stood up and looked at Hermione, already sitting on a desk and reading a big old tome under the desk lamp, her brow cutely furrowed.

"What are you reading?" asked Harry with curiosity.

"Ermm, something about blood wards, but I really don't understand it." said Hermione with a furrowed brow.

"That's pretty advanced magic Hermione, as well as illegal." said Harry slowly while tugging the book from her arms. She completely let the book go when he said that the magic was illegal.

"Illegal? Why?" asked Hermione asked.

"I don't really don't know, but I'm positive that it is illegal. You are leaping into it Hermione. First you have to learn to crawl, before you can learn to walk. Come with me." said Harry as he stood up. He put the blood magic book back in the bookshelf and continued walking down the row of bookshelves against the wall.

"Here we go, _Theory of Magic by Griselda Moon_. This book will explain what magic is, and the rules and limitations of what a witch can do with her own. Next, here it is, _Defenses of the Brilliant Mind by Semptimus Liard._ This book will teach you to protect your mind from outside influences. It is highly important that you learn everything in this book and apply it in real life. It's not that hard, it just requires discipline. Next, here take this as well, _The Magical law of Britain, Self-updating Edition by Peter Weatherby._ Make sure to learn what is illegal and try to avoid it. Also, you'll need _Simple but Useful Spells by Antoinette Dubois._ Just to memorize, because casting magic away from school is illegal. And finally, for light reading, _Hogwarts, A History._" he said and piled the last book in her hands. Some were thick, some were slimmer, but she would need a bag to take them all home. He saw the excited look in her eyes and chuckled to himself.

"I strongly suggest you read them in the order I gave them to you, and if you want, you can start reading _Theory of Magic_ right now. Oh, and one more thing, you can't talk to anyone not able to use magic about magic, save your mum and dad. The Magical world survived so long only because it is secret." said Harry. She immediately went back to the desk in order to read some more. Harry just sighed with a happy smile on his face. He was always happy to see her happy.

"Oh, before you start reading, several more basics you need to know about the magical world. Wizards are male humans that can use magic, and witches are female humans that can use magic. Squibs are humans that can't use magic but are born to magical parents, humans that can't use magic and don't even know about it are called muggles. There is a school of magic called Hogwarts, and that is where I intend to go when I'm eleven. That is when you start, September the first in the year you encounter the day as an eleven-year old. A letter will arrive with all that you need, and I would like you to call me as soon as the letter arrives. Okay?" asked Harry after explaining a bit about the magical world. Most of it she would learn from the books he gave her. Hermione nodded in response to his questions and continued reading _Theory of Magic_.

Harry sighed as he stared at the ceiling of his room. He laid on his bed in his room, grounded for the first time in his life. Because he used magic. Oh, no. His mother haven't forgotten the fact that he used magic without her knowledge, and even when he argued that he already knew what spells he was using, his mother still grounded him.

"Magic is not a toy to be playing with, Harry Potter. Magic is very dangerous. Magic shouldn't even be cast before you get your own wand." he mimicked his mother mockingly while staring at the ceiling of his room.

"Look who is talking, the twenty year old _girl_ that dabbled in blood magic without even considering the consequences of what she was doing." said Harry angrily. He wasn't angry that he was punished, he was angry that his mother punished him for tinkering with magic, when she herself tinkered with a lot more dangerous field of magic. He was angry at the hypocrisy of her actions. He looked at himself in the mirror and saw a little boy throwing a hissy fit.

"God damn hormones! Urgh!" he shouted while stuffing his head under the pillow.

* * *

A/N: Read these letters. Read them one by one. Aren't they beautiful? Aren't they mezmerisingly beautiful, so beautiful that you want to click that green button below them? _**REVIEW!!!**_


	4. The New Wand and the Sorting

A/N: Mainly answering questions i got in reviews. **If everything is crystal clear, you can skip this!**  
Right. Another chapter, just a tad longer this time. Now, about people bugging me that Harry couldn't speak to snakes- newsflash people, anyone can speak to snakes. I can speak to snakes. Weather they understand me or not- now that's a whole different story. And about Harry not understanding and not speaking parseltongue, another newsflash, Dumbledore can understand parseltongue. It's just a language, even some stories make it seem something much more than that. And in two hundred years, a man can learn much, and if he has Harry's memory... well, that would be telling (wink wink :D).

FIRST OF ALL, READ THE FRIGGIN' DATES, THEY WERE BOTH TEN WHEN HARRY SHOWED HER THE LIBRARY!!! NOT SEVEN, NOT 5.091270124, BUT TEN!!!

Second of all, i got this in a review:  
"How is it possible that Lily didn't suspect that something was wrong with Harry all this years?"  
Well, if you would define 'wrong', I'd be happy to answer that question. If you're thinking about his intellect, Harry is not showing much (as you shall witness a part of his genius in this chapter). If you are thinking about his grasp on magic, well, I guess she would be a little freaked out by that, but then again she already knew that Harry would have a great grasp on magic, since his core was so developed, as Dumbledore revealed to her in chapter 2. (did you skip chapter 2 altogether?)

Third, i got this in a review:  
"why do you say alchimy is a dieing field I mean you can make new bodies, souls and just about anything permanent"  
First of all, you cannot make souls with any kind of magic. You cannot raise the dead with magic, not truly (only prevent death, and that's pretty dark stuff, which Harry will stray clear off). You cannot create food with magic (Gamp's law and whatnot). You canot create love with magic (remember, amorentia creates obsession, not love). These laws will stay true to anything I write. Anything else you see in HP, you can bend, twist, and outright break and mutilate, and it will still be acceptable.  
As for alchemy... How many alchemists are there in the HP world? Two, Albus and Nicholas, both as old as dirt. And why exactly is alchemy a dying art... reread chapter 1 and you'll find out.

Fourth, (getting boring, yah?) I got this in a review:  
"Now, want you to move the mouse all the way to the left-hand lower corner of the screen, and click on that lovely little green button that says "Start". And then you move your mouse up...click "MY Documents"...open the story...AND START WRITING!"  
First of all, I use the classic view in Xp and the classic start menu (basicaly the one that was in win98, much more practical and less resource-consuming). Therefore I don't have a My Documents icon in my start menu. Second, i don't even keep the stories in my documents. What are you, nutz? One system fuckup and I'll be formatting C: deleting everything in it, including my documents and the stories. And fuckups happen to me at least twice a month. I keep the stories in a safe location on an external drive.  
Amen.

Fifth, i got this from Lientjuhh in a review:  
"I like it.. Well done.. :)"  
I have recieved this exact review numerous times, and I'm starting to think that this person has a review bot, just to keep authors appeased and have them keep the story going, keep the chapters posting, keep the wheels spinning, keep the monkey's jumping... Suspicious... :D

Sixth, and final (thank god, this chapter is taking forever to post):  
People have been busting my balls, popping my bubbles and killing all joy in the world about the financial state of Lily and her family. The will said that they left everything to Harry, and in the event that Voldemort found them, they both expected to die. And in the cannon they did, leaving harry a nice trust fund. But now that Lily survived, the main vaults are shut until the heir of the Potter House (Harry) reaches 17. Sucks to be a muggleborn, as we all well know.

Well, that's it. Enjoy the story and _**REVIEW!!!**_

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Disclaimer: See chapter one.

Chapter Four: The New Wand and the Sorting

Tears, involuntarily mind you, and sweat dribbled down his cheeks as he grit his teeth. They made it look so simple on that documentary, their faces expressionless as they did the same thing he did. But it hurt so much, he didn't know if he could stand it anymore. He sighed as he pushed himself off the floor and stood on one foot while removing the one he had placed on the bed before him. He took his pants off, then his underwear and bent down to inspect himself. The skin between his thigh and his pee-pee, as his mother had referred to it in the past, when she gave him baths, was red and raw from the stretching.

"Ah! Shit!" he hissed as he ran a smooth finger over the inflamed area and felt the skin sting under it. He sighed as he wordlessly and wandlessly conjured an icepack, a feat not even Dumbledore could say he achieved, and placed it on the bed. He stripped himself naked before he slowly sat on the icepack, sighing in relief as the stinging was replaced with a cold feeling.

He was locked in his room again, his mother punishing him for a thing that Jamie did and then blamed him for it. He still couldn't understand how his mother could think that he, the studious one, could splash a bucket of paint on the _library wall_. There were no evidence of who did it, but Harry hadn't even known what had happened before his mother was storming in the living-room where he sat curled up in front of the fireplace and reading a book, and unloaded on him. He was even tugged by the ear and deposited in his room before he could even defend himself.

He wiped his sweaty and tear-streaked face with a towel, and sighed again before he scratched himself 'down there', and looked at himself in the mirror. He desperately wanted to throw a tantrum, even if just to unload his feelings, but then again, he knew that a tantrum would be seen as nothing but a tantrum, and wouldn't do him any good. It would only bring more shouting down his ear. So, no tantrums.

He learned long ago that as a child he was emotionally unstable, and that he would burst into tears at the smallest inconveniences such as stubbing a toe or being pricked by a needle. He didn't have a clue as to why this was, but he chalked it up on his hormones. Tantrums were also hard to reign in and control and his emotions were slipping despite his mastery over the art of Occlumency. Adults always said that it was easy to be a kid, and that they would give anything to get their childhood back, but now it was obvious to him that they didn't quite remember the pool of feces they were in when they used to be children.

He sighed again, and scratched himself above the pee-pee. Why was he so itchy anyway? He bent down and looked at his pee-pee closely. Anyone but his mother would laugh if they saw it now, small and shriveled up, but he knew it would grow quite within the range of the average, and maybe, just maybe, now that he had decent nourishment, it would grow above the range of the average. He smiled at that thought, but something else caught his attention. There were small, almost invisible black hairs starting to grow around it. His eyes widened and he straightened up immediately. If he remembered well, this didn't start to happen until he was in the middle of his second year of Hogwarts. So why two years earlier?

He thought about it, but he didn't know enough about biology to make any sense of it, so he just shrugged and chalked it off to the nourishment. After all, before he went to Hogwarts, he didn't know that it was normal to actually have three meals per day. His relatives usually fed him- no, _allowed him to eat_, once or twice a day.

The stretching exercises were very painful, but he still did them anyway. He knew he couldn't rely on one power all the time, because it was like building a roof on only one support pillar. In the future, he had encountered wards that nullified any and all magic. If Voldemort ever got to that knowledge, he knew that all the magical power he had would be completely useless. It was still a mystery to him how the ancient Macedonians had created a ward cast by magic, to nullify magic. The wards were in a cave, and inside the cave was a great beast. He had barely got out alive that time, and curiosity took him over. Because of the wards, all magic that wasn't already in the cave failed spectacularly, so that meant that whoever placed the shackled beast in the cave and the wards in it, intended for the beast to be defeated without magic. Yet the cave was hidden from muggles by a ward intertwined with the ward that nullified magic.

He remembered it during a meditation, and curiosity took him all over again. What was in that cave that needed to be guarded by such a beast? Indeed, a saber tooth tiger, something that was supposed to be extinct, could be put to sleep by a simple stunning spell, but without magic… Of course, he could buy or steal a gun and kill it, but he felt that the thing had to be killed with only a blade, and nothing else. It was guarding something, but what, he didn't know.

So that is why he decided to start practicing and exercising his body. He wanted to see what was in that cave. Perhaps the secret of the nullifier ward lay in that cave, and he could take that knowledge and study it. Perhaps it was something else, but whatever it was, it seemed important.

At first he had used magical baby powder on the irritated skin, but it turned out that that was a mistake. It seemed that every time he put the powder on it, the skin healed, but didn't toughen or stretch at all, on the contrary, it became more fragile and sensitive, and in the end, he had to grit his teeth and use only ice. Of course, because of the sensitivity of the crotch area, not even ice could be used for extended periods of time, lest he damage his testicles. He didn't like it, but he knew that flexibility was the key to Shaolin Kung Fu, even though he rarely used it. Shaolin Kung Fu had moves that looked like straight out of a movie, and it was diverse, which meant with Shaolin Kung Fu you could defeat anything from a snake to a bear. The downside was that Shaolin Kung Fu used too much energy, so when fighting a human, he usually preferred Wing Chun. That was a martial art that was very effective when used against humans, yet it used the most simple and direct moves in order not to exhaust the practitioner. The technique was very good, and he was not surprised when he heard a theory that said it was designed by a woman.

So he got up from the ice pack and vanished it. He sighed again before he put on his clothes. He looked at the dragon tattoo on his arm and traced it with his fingers. He didn't have an idea what it stood for, just that he was born with it, but he had some inkling that it was caused by the sword he stabbed himself with. Over the years he had cast many revealing spells on it, and only discerned one thing. It was a living being of some sort, living inside the ink. He had tried to contact it using Legilimency, but it didn't seem to work. The milky white eyes of the tattoo were unresponsive.

He looked again at the locked door and sighed. It seemed that the only thing he did nowadays was sighing. He thought it was restlessness to see Hogwarts again. He was the headmaster for a short time, but this time he fully intended to take over once McGonagall retired.

The last time he was punished was some one hundred and ninety years ago, and he had forgotten how to cope with captivity. He figured it was not worth to dwell on it, and it was best to keep himself busy, so with a wave of his hand, his closet turned into a wooden dummy. He used to know these moves in his sleep, but with a new body, everything that he used to practice for was now down the drain. Toughness of the knuckles and the hands, muscle memory and power and flexibility were the pillars of a good martial artist, and they could be all gained through training on a wooden dummy. He may never beat anyone in a tournament, but a street punk with a knife was an easy target. Even someone with a wand at close range would be an easy target, mainly because no one would expect a wizard to fight like a 'dirty muggle', as the fanatic purebloods so lovingly put it. And so with a sigh, he began going through the moves slowly.

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Harry sighed as he Sirius tapped the appropriate brick and the arc-like entrance to Diagon Alley opened. He wanted Hermione to come with him to do their shopping together, but her parents had taken her with them on a dentist's convention in the United States of America, and they wouldn't be back until the twentieth of August. And his mother refused to delay the shopping trip that she had planned, stating that if she delayed it, it would disrupt her plans all the way through mid December. So he and Sirius took off to Diagon Alley, and his mum and Jamie went to visit the Longbottoms. After their recuperation, they had a lot to catch up on, and his mother had even gotten a job through Alice's connections at St. Mungo's as a trainee healer, while Sirius was still unemployed, as ever.

"Alright, Harry. First off, we have to get you a wand. A wizard is nothing without his wand after all." said Sirius as he wove through the crowds of parents and students.

"Speak for yourself." muttered Harry to himself, and soon enough they were in front of Ollivander's. They entered the shop, and Harry spotted an oriental girl, Su Li, if he was correct, waving wand after wand, before she finally settled on a cherry wand with dragon heartstring as the core. Next up was a quiet boy that was in Harry's year, in Hufflepuff. He had never learned the name of the boy with mousy hair and silvery blue eyes, and after the boy tried a few wands and got his match, he was up next. He stood in front of Ollivander as the creepy man ordered the magical tape to take his measurements. They tried wand after wand, even the phoenix core wand from his former life, but to no avail. No wand wanted him.

"Curious, curious. You seem to be a difficult case, Mr. Potter. I tried all the variations I could think of, and I couldn't find a match for you. I'm afraid you would have to come in the back." Ollivander waved at him to follow, and he and Sirius approached slowly, but after several steps, Ollivander stopped and turned around.

"I'm afraid Mr. Potter will have to come with me alone. No one can enter in the back with him." said Ollivander softly.

"But, I'm his godfather!" exclaimed an affronted Sirius.

"Godfather or not, Mr. Potter and I are the only ones going through that door. Either sit and wait for us in the front, or go look for a wand elsewhere." said Ollivander slowly and softly, as if trying to discipline a naughty child. His words had that exact effect, as Sirius pouted and moved back and took a seat near the window of the shop.

Ollivander moved forward and leaned on the doorframe, before he started to whisper to it, as if it were sentient and he was explaining the situation to it. Harry strained his ears, and although he couldn't catch the words that the old man was murmuring softly, almost lovingly, Harry could identify the language as ancient Phoenician. Curious, as the old creepy man with silver eyes in front of him would put it.

"Come in and sit down. Don't touch anything." said Ollivander and settled him with a stare that would freeze any first year, Gryffindor or not. Harry nodded and followed Ollivander inside the back room and immediately seated himself in a plush black leather stuffed armchair. He looked curiously around the room. There were shelves with dusty jars set on them, odd gems and stones, and several closets.

"Hmm, where did I put them… ah, here they are." he said triumphantly as he picked up what seemed to be a pair of ordinary reading glasses from a drawer of a workbench covered in sawdust. He blew air to get rid of the dust before he pulled out a cloth from his pocket and cleaned them. He put them on his eyes and pulled out his wand.

"Now, sit still Mr. Potter. This isn't going to hurt one bit." he said as he approached him with the wand drawn. He prodded him with his wand tip on the chest several times, and twice on the tattoo he had on his right forearm before he whistled. He sent off a spell at a clipboard that lay on the workbench and a quill immediately rose up and started scribbling.

"A curious subject named Harry James Potter came to visit me for a wand on the third of august, nineteen ninety one. Born on July the thirty first, nineteen eighty, the subject is, obviously, currently aged eleven. The subject appears to have two cores, one of which is older than the other by an unknown amount of years. The older core emulates feelings of long lingering sadness and strangely enough, goodness and purity. The other, the younger core, emulates feelings of selfishness, fierceness and strangely enough, justice and determination. Subject also appears to carry an unknown entity in his right forearm, one that carries the same traits as the younger core within him. This is not a case of possession, but of symbiosis. The unknown entity is unknown number of years old, just as the older core; however, it carries the same traits as the younger, the eleven year old core, which is controversial. I shall now attempt to make a wand for the subject." said Ollivander as he flipped through the strange jars on the shelves. Harry could hear him muttering under his breath.

"Hmm, no, too much greed, what's this, insolence? No, that will not do. Hmm, fury. Good heavens no. Ah here we are. Yet, not. Hmm, tricky customer, tricky indeed… perhaps… yes that would do nicely." the old man muttered before he removed a jar from the middle of one of the higher shelves.

"Yes. Here we go." Ollivander said as he opened the jar and removed a single feather covered in a thick yellow goo. He brought it near Harry and put it near his chest, peering at his chest, then at the feather and then back again.

"The older core is compatible with a feather of a dying phoenix. However, a single feather is not nearly powerful enough in accordance to the size and, strangely enough the density of the older core. Therefore, I will have to use all three feathers I have available." said Ollivander clinically as he removed two more feathers from the jar and placed them all in a shallow stone bowl on his workbench. After that he went back to the shelves and continued muttering to himself, and Harry reddened in the face, tying to hold his laughter in when he noticed that the Auto-Quill wrote down the mutterings of the old man that he suspected was at least slightly touched in the head.

"Hmm, that younger core is going to be trickier than I thought. Let's see now… justice and determination, and… mellowness? Goodness no. Justice, justice, justice, justice and ruthlessness. No, that one has Crouch written all over it. Hmmm… Ah- no, no, that wouldn't work, now would it? Justice, justice… HAH! Got it!" exclaimed Ollivander as he removed an extremely dusty jar and wiping it down with a towel that was hung on the opposite wall.

"Here we go. Fortunately, one heartstring of a Golden Dragon, meticulously preserved through my forefathers will be quite enough for the estimated size the smaller and younger core will grow to. Fortunately, I say, because I happen to have only one heartstring from this amazing, long extinct, and unfortunately, nearly mythological creature. The cores would settle nicely in a triangular prism, but I'm afraid that any type of wood would be too fragile to support the output power of the wand. It seems that I have an extremely powerful customer." said Ollivander as he placed the single heartstring in another empty stone bowl.

"Therefore, I'm forced to 'borrow', so to speak, a technique from the older craft of staff making, a focusing stone to be exact. Focusing stones are not popular within wand lore, but then again, they aren't that popular because they are very rare. The focusing stone should have some outward physical connection with the subject. Let's see, subject has black hair, so, perhaps, a black diamond from the legendary Ur'thul mines." said Ollivander as he picked up a black stone from the shelves and held it against Harry's hair.

"No, the black diamond is not compatible with the subject, I'm afraid, as the black diamond represents maliciousness and, dare I say it, a deluded sense of superiority, a stone perfect for a little pureblood prince- no doubt. One specific characteristic remains then. The subject has strikingly green eyes. Emerald green eyes, to be precise. And I happen to possess an emerald from the Astera mine. A fine emerald, if a bit on the smaller side, formed into a hexagonal pyramid by exquisite Dwarven craftsmanship." Ollivander said as he picked up a small emerald stone and placed it between Harry's eyes. He looked at Harry's eyes, and then at the, stone, and back at the eyes, before he nodded.

"Excellent! The emerald is compatible. Now the only factor remaining is the wood." he said as he opened one of the cupboards against far side wall. After several minutes of quiet contemplation, and more than several glances at Harry, Ollivander pulled two thick branches of wood.

"The subject's mother favored a Willow wand, and it appears that the subject is compatible with willow as well, probably because he shares some characteristics with his own mother. The other wood, which I foolishly expected to be mahogany, which was a match for the subject's father, is something of an enigma. It is a branch of elder. There is only one wand with an elder wood in existence, and its current holder doesn't seem to have any kind of relationship with the subject at all. However, although reluctant, I am forced to use it, as it seems that no other wood is compatible with the subject, and only one wood would have poor magical input, and wouldn't do the wand justice. I have gathered all the needed parts and ingredients, and I no longer need the subject present. Auto-Quill off." said Ollivander to the clipboard, and the quill floated up from the parchment before it rested in an inkwell.

"Mr. Potter, the wand will be finished in three hours. I suggest that you come and pick it up then. And also, bring fifty seven galleons with you. You have claimed my most expensive materials, I'm afraid." said Ollivander, and Harry stood up from the chair.

"Alright sir. I'll be in your shop in three hours." said Harry before he exited the room and walked between the shelves stocked with wands until he reached the counter.

"Come on Sirius. Mr. Ollivander told me to come back in three hours." said Harry as he exited the shop, a confused Sirius following him.

"Er- What now?" asked Sirius uncertainly.

"The new wand Ollivander is making for me costs fifty seven galleons. Do you have fifty seven galleons on you?" asked Harry, and Sirius checked his money pouch.

"I have sixty one." said Sirius after counting the money.

"I'm afraid it will not be enough to buy everything I need. Let's try this. Give me the pouch and go to Gringotts and take another one hundred galleons. Meanwhile I will buy items from my list before I meet you here in half an hour. Deal?" asked Harry, and Sirius just nodded before handing Harry his pouch and proceeding to the big white building that was Gringotts Wizarding Bank. Harry just smiled and walked across the street to a trunk shop and bought himself a nice mahogany trunk with four compartments; one for clothes, one for books, one for delicate instruments and items and one for potion supplies. It came with four different keys, one for each of the four compartments, a lightweight charm, the standard protective and anti-theft charms and a neat shrinking charm.

After purchasing the trunk Harry sneaked a peek in the junk shop right next to it, hoping to find a pensive, but he was not lucky enough to find one, only useless torn history books, broken wands and sneakoscopes of dubious quality. Next, he visited Madam Malkin's robe shop, and he got several nice robes for himself besides the standard Hogwarts uniform set. He also bought two pairs of Dragon-hide boots and a woolen topcoat that would expand and grow with him over the years. He bought it mainly because it looked good on him and looked modern, and would pass in the muggle world with flying colors, while hiding any and all things that would unveil him as a wizard.

He met with Sirius at the designated spot, and they continued the shopping together. After buying a full set of potions ingredients from the apothecary, they bought a standard potions set at the nearby cauldron shop. Then they visited Flourish and Blott's bookstore and bought the entire standard first year book set on the list, before they visited the stationary shop and bought several self inking quills and dozens of rolls of parchment, which they all stored in the books compartment of his new four compartment trunk. It was with a happy face when he entered Eyelops Owl Emporium and bought a familiar snowy white owl which he immediately named Hedwig. He also bought her a cage, a stand for his room at home and a full bag of owl treats. He had missed Hedwig more than he realized. He finally bought a telescope for his astronomy classes, and with that, he finished the list. Three hours were definitely not up, so Harry and Sirius sat down at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor to have some ice cream and talk a little to pass the time.

Harry ordered his favorite flavors, treacle tart, blueberry and chocolate. Sirius ordered vanilla, cherry and kiwi. Harry ate his own ice cream, looking at Sirius' all the time. Vanilla, white as his mother's skin, cherry, as red as his mother's hair, and kiwi, as green as his mother's eyes. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure it out. He looked down at his own ice cream. Chocolate, brown, probably Hermione's eyes, treacle tart, golden brown which kind of looked like Hermione's hair, and blueberry, his favorite fruit, which had no connection to Hermione, besides this awesome reoccurring dream of Hermione feeding him blueberries with her mouth he had from way, way back. Were they that obvious? Maybe; Sirius was pretty obvious and probably desperate too, but his own choice of flavors seemed more subtle.

"Look, Sirius, we have to get you hooked up with mum." said Harry suddenly, making a decision and speaking his mind at the same time. Sirius choked on his ice cream, and coughed up a piece of frozen kiwi before he looked at Harry incredulously.

"Erm- did I just hear what I heard?" asked Sirius, a confused frown etched on his face.

"Yeah, you did. I mean, think about it. You're practically me and Jamie's father, you're paining after her badly, and she is a single mother. Available. You blubbered up all those years ago, but for god sakes man, chances are everywhere around you." said Harry in a hushed tone of voice.

"Harry- god, this is uncomfortable, Harry listen, I- I wanted to try again for over a year now. She seems more warmed up to me now, although it could be my imagination. But I don't know how to do it." said Sirius, his long wavy black hair tossing about this way and that as he shook his head.

"Well, the first step is to act more serious- and I'm being serious, Sirius, no puns please- to act more serious around Jamie. Show him that life is more than just pranks. Things like responsibility, and maturity, knowledge and such. Tell him that life cannot always be a barrel of laughs, and that the laughter is only to lighten the mood, to make the day a bit brighter, you know, drivel like that. And for god sakes man, shave that thing on your face you call facial hair. It might have been endearing a couple centuries ago, but now it's not. Help around the house, and I don't mean just distracting and playing with Jamie, because Jamie is old enough now to read his own books, and you should also urge him to write more, his handwriting is a mess. Also, no matter how cool your animagus form is, it makes you smell like a wet dog. So take showers after you change back to human, and wear a particularly strong cologne and perfume." said Harry quickly, and funnily enough, Sirius pulled out a small notepad and took notes.

"Perfume? But perfume is for… girls." said Sirius, also in a hushed whisper.

"Was Sirius, was. That was ages ago, centuries. Just walk around Muggle London and ask in the shops for deodorant for men and a particularly strong cologne and perfume for men. Trust me on this one." said Harry as he took another spoon of his ice cream.

"Wait a minute. You're not even a first year. How do you know all this?" Sirius asked bewildered. Harry blushed and bowed his head down, while furiously thinking of a thing to explain his supposed knowledge.

"You promise not to laugh?" Harry asked in a small voice.

"Promise." said Sirius quickly. Harry lifted his red face to look at Sirius with something akin to desperation and horror, all carefully faked through Occlumency.

"You promise to tell no one? And I mean no one." asked Harry, and Sirius took a big breath before nodding.

"On my honor as a marauder." said Sirius seriously, and Harry saw that Sirius didn't intend to tell anyone.

"Well, you know I read a lot. And I mean, _a lot_." said Harry slowly, as if uncertain if he should be divulging this information.

"Yes. So?" asked Sirius, uncertain where Harry was going.

"Well, it's not only books I read in the library. Old magazines. Magazines for _witches_." Harry said in a harsh whisper, as if he promised eternal pain and suffering lest Sirius divulge this information to anyone, anyone at all.

"But, those are for witches. I don't quite understand, Harry." said Sirius. It was unbecoming of a wizard, especially a cool wizard, to read magazines for witches. After all, they were meant for witches, and were _girly._

"Now yourself and know thy enemy, Sun Tzu, Art of War. That's how you conquer them, Sirius. That is how you conquer them." said Harry as he took another spoonful of chocolate ice cream. So far, so good.

"I understand. But why do you know all this info. Are you planning on dating someone?" asked Sirius curiously. Harry thought he could relate, so he resigned himself and told the truth.

"Well, there is this one girl…" Harry said and he trailed off. Sirius thought for a moment before he spoke.

"But you don't know any girls. Except… you mean that bushy haired squirt with the big front teeth-" he said, but he was cut off by his unfinished bowl of ice cream suddenly exploding violently, staining his black shirt in red, green and white ice cream, mingled with small shards of glass, none of which, thankfully, pierced his skin.

"Shut your mouth, Sirius, before I shut it for you!" said Harry in a harsh whisper as the other customers turned their attention to the to see what the commotion was all about. Sirius gulped, actually gulped, before he shook himself and spoke quietly.

"Sorry Harry. I- I spoke out of turn." said Sirius quietly, regret clearly seeping through his words. Harry sighed and took a moment to calm himself down, before he spoke again.

"I love you Sirius. You are my godfather, and I love you like a father. But you have a bad habit of yapping your mouth before you think about what you're saying." said Harry. Sirius just nodded and waved his wand over himself, cleaning the glass and the stains, before waving at the table and cleaning the ice cream off it. Harry pushed his ice cream away from him, not wanting to eat the glass shards that had undoubtedly fell in his own bowl.

"Any more advice?" asked Sirius curiously, and Harry thought for a while before he talked.

"I think it would be best to take her out for dinner some place nice. Outside. Let her rest from the interior of our house. It will be your treat, of course, but don't take her to a place that is outrageously expensive, because that way she will think that you're trying to buy her. Make sure your clothes are appropriate, but not flashy. Remember, she must be at the center of attention, not you. If you feel nervous, don't try to hide it. It will make her see that you truly care enough to feel nervous. And, use those pureblood decorum rules you got beat into your head at a young age. They will make you appear disciplined and attractive. No bad or unsavory jokes, no sexual innuendo, none of that joker stuff. Stick to that and you'll be fine." said Harry before he stood up, leaving a galleon to cover the ice cream and the damage to one glass bowl.

"It's time to pick up that wand at Ollivander's, and if we hurry back, we might have enough time to talk some more before mum and Jamie arrive home." said Harry as they hurried toward the old and dingy wand shop at the end of the alley. There was no one inside as Harry opened the door, only old Ollivander, quietly reading a newspaper behind the counter, and for once not startling customers with the help of a disillusionment charm.

"Ah, Mister Potter. Welcome back. I trust that you have the money with you?" asked Ollivander as he put down his copy of the Daily Prophet. Sirius lifted a large money pouch and shook it a bit, making the gold inside jingle.

"Articulate as ever Mister Black. Here is the wand." said Ollivander as he lifted a thin long box from behind the counter and placing said box on the top of the counter. He opened it gingerly, as the box seemed most exquisite, and saw the wand laying innocently inside it. The box was of highly polished mahogany wood, with a sleek finish and rounded edges, somewhat reminiscent of an expensive case for glasses, but it was quite longer than that. Inside, in black silken velvet, laid a long wand, which instead of the regular long cone shape, took on the shape of a long triangular prism with rounded edges. Harry took it in his hand, and immediately warmth flooded him, and a feeling of power, and a feeling like someone gave him back a limb that was severed long, long ago. There wasn't a shower of sparks, a flashy aura, an earthquake, and explosion or any kind of dramatic indication that this wand was the wand for him, but he knew from the moment he touched it. It was his.

He brought it closer to his eyes and removed his glasses so that he could inspect the wand closely and held it vertically in front of him. The wand was one of highest quality he had ever seen, and counting on how many insanely rich Dark Lords obsessed with their wands and illusions of superiority and power he had defeated and claimed wands from, that was saying quite a lot. The woods had been merged by an unknown technique, making the wand stout and yet have some flexibility to it, but not like his mother's wand, which had only one type of wood, willow. The grip was covered with twelve horizontal and shallow channels, each spaced approximately one centimeter from the other. Between these channels were many shallow and narrow holes, which, along with the channels seemed to have the sole purpose of providing an exquisite and solid grip to the wand. The grip was twelve centimeters long, seemingly a brown that was lighter than the rest of the wand, and the rest of the wand was twenty one centimeters long and a deep brown, nearly black color, making the total length thirty three centimeters. Almost thirteen inches.

Between the grip and the tip, there were many runes inscribed along its length, mainly for unbreakability, resistance to fire, cold, heat, water and acid, a charm to keep it the polish unscratchable, as well as a complicated set of runes to make the wand immune to expelliarmus, the standard disarming spell. The tip took one centimeter of the total length of the wand, which was painted a light green in contrast of the dark brown, almost black natural color of the elder and the willow wood of the rest of the wand. Inside the tip was the focusing stone, the emerald from the Astera mine. Only the tip of the emerald with a hexagonal pyramid shape was visible, as the rest was firmly set within the wand by means unknown to Harry. He hadn't bothered with wand lore in his past life, beyond what he had learned from Ollivander in the last twelve months before Voldemort fell. However, as he now seemingly know most of the magics on earth, perhaps this life he would dedicate in learning wand lore, and if Albus was willing to teach him, even advanced alchemy. The wand was beautiful, and he gently placed it within its box, before closing it slowly.

"Can I buy a wrist holster for this beauty?" asked Harry, and Ollivander grinned before he supplied him with a black wrist holster made of black dragon hide.

"Already made a new one to go with the wand. Free of charge of course. That is the most powerful wand I have made. Ever. Take great care of it. There are no more materials on earth, let alone in my shop, that can be used to replicate this wand." said Ollivander as he passed Harry the box with the wand in it and the holster. Harry reverently put them both in his trunk, and smiled when Ollivander gave him a subtle wink. Sirius was so stunned with the wand that he gave Ollivander sixty galleons instead of the required fifty seven, and when Ollivander tried to return the tree galleons, Sirius simply took Harry's arm and guided him out of the shop, after thanking the old wand maker and ignoring his attempts to return the three golden coins back.

"Wow! What a kick ass wand you got there Harry. How come Ollivander didn't make me one like that. All I got was a dragon heart string through a rough black ash branch." pouted Sirius in humor, and Harry responded in stride.

"Well, you know what they say Padfoot. A simple wand for a simple wizard." said Harry cheekily, and Sirius looked affronted for a moment before pouting exaggeratedly.

"I'll have you know, young Prongs, I'm a very complex and intriguing person. As complex and as intriguing as they go!" he said in mock outrage. They looked at each other and burst out in laughter, just before they reached the Leaky Cauldron Inn, and said hello to Tom the innkeeper before flooing home.

* * *

"Brother, don't goooo!!!" wailed little Jamie as he hugged Harry. People were turning and looking at them with small smiles, god knows what going through their minds. Harry sighed before he unglued himself from Jamie and bent down to look into the little troublemaker's teary eyes.

"Come on Jamie. It will be gone just for three months, and after that I will be home for Christmas. And then, I'll be home over the summer, and next year, you can come with me. What's the matter?" asked Harry in a low voice. His mother's eyes were sparkling with tears as she looked at them, he noticed from the corner of his eye, before Jamie sniffed again, his nose red from crying.

"But who will I play with meee? And who will I play pranks oooon? And who will tell me about responsibilityyyy? Harry, please don't gooooo!!!!!" wailed Jamie desperately. Harry sighed and looked at his brother with a small smile.

"Hey! Don't be so selfish, young man. You always play with Sirius, and I think is high time that you showed him who the real prankster in the house is. As for telling you about responsibility, I think that Mum and Sirius should take up my post. Jamie, look at me! No matter what, you will still be my brother! Blood is thicker than water, little brother, and you best remember that. Anyways, it's not like I'm going to a concentration camp. You can always send me letters, and I promise to write back at least once a week." said Harry softly. He have had doubts about his brother, but it seemed that he was worrying for nothing the whole time. His brother just wanted to have a good time, and being brought up by Sirius just had to make you an arsehole, no matter how superficially.

"You pro- you promise? " sniffed Jamie, wiping his nose off his sleeve. Harry smiled and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, actually conjured one, but what the heck, he doubted Mad-Eye was anywhere near to look through his coat into his pockets. He wiped Jamie's face before wiping his nose and stuffing the handkerchief back in his pocket, where it mysteriously vanished.

"I promise. Now be a good brother and take care of mum. Can I trust you with her?" he said as he cast a look at the teary eyed Lily. Jamie suddenly straightened and puffed out his chest while looking like a Malfoy instead of a Potter. Scratch that, the kid looked like a soldier.

"You can bet on it Harry!" he said, his upper lip stiffening. Harry smiled and saluted him, before he straightened up and turned to his mother. He hugged her and took a long and inaudible sniff from her perfume before he backed off and looked her in the eyes.

"Take care of the kids, mum." he said as he glanced sneakily at Sirius, who was transformed in to a dog. The big dog's eyes drooped, and he looked like someone stuck a firecracker up his… well, you know where. He smiled at him, kneeled down and scratched him behind the ears. He hadn't noticed before, but his godfather held something between his teeth. He looked closely, and just as he was about to take it away, it dropped in his hand. It was a miniature money sack, and when he met Padfoot's eyes, the sly dog winked at him. He looked at the miniature money pouch, and written in small letters on it was the word 'engorgio'. He smiled and winked at Padfoot, and the dog licked his face.

"Urgh. You dogs certainly know how to give a kiss. Yuck. Okay, listen up Padfoot. Keep Jamie entertained, show him some pranks, or even better have him read from the library some, so he don't come to Hogwarts being a complete dunce. And most of all take care of mum and Jamie, or I'll cut off your tail. Got it?" he said jokingly. Padfoot barked once, and Harry laughed before he scratched him one last time behind the ears and stood up. He spotted Neville's grandmother giving the chubby boy a pat on the back as he boarded the train, his mother and father waving at him.

A Dumbledore-like twinkle settled in his eyes as he saw the attire Augusta Longbottom was wearing. A light blue, almost white silk Chinese robe, with intricate decorations of midnight blue lines on it, complete with a white hand-held fan. He shook his head with a smile as he boarded the train and went down the corridor looking for an empty compartment. Once he found one, he put his trunk on the floor between the facing seats and seated himself, waiting for Hermione to arrive. He had Hedwig's cage shrunken and in his trunk as Hedwig opted to fly to Hogwarts, glad of the opportunity to stretch her wings a bit. Of course, it took five more minutes of bored waiting for Hermione to bang open the compartment door and seat herself across him. In came Dan Granger, carrying Hermione's trunk easily and depositing it on the racks above them. He shook hands with Harry and kissed Hermione on the forehead before he said goodbye and left the compartment.

"So Harry, what have you been up to this last month?" she asked him curiously.

"Oh, you really don't want to know." said Harry with a huff as he pushed the trunk before him and rested his feet over it.

"What is the matter with you? Why are you acting so strange?" asked Hermione, looking at his frown.

"It's just that… I don't know. This is the first time I'll be away from my family since I was born, and I really don't know… I think I'm already missing them." said Harry with a small sad smile. It was true he spent much time reading, but he also went flying with Sirius, and talked about Gamp's Laws with his mother, and baked and cooked with her, and raced in the huge back yard with his brother. Now he was going to miss them all, and he was going to have to sit still in classrooms in Hogwarts, and pretend not to know all the material they were covering, from first to seventh year.

"I think I know what you mean. I'm an only child, and my mum and dad always have spent their free time with me. I'll be honest, I never had any friends before you, and now I think I will miss them badly." she said softly. Harry looked up and saw her staring out the window with moist eyes.

"Hey now, we still have each other. We can miss our families together." said Harry comfortingly as he sat next to her and rubbed her back in small circles.

"Misery loves company, huh? Oh, Harry, what would I do without you?" asked Hermione as she took her hand in his. Harry smiled at the gesture, and threw the hand that was rubbing her over her shoulder, giving her a small sideways hug.

"I don't know, you'd probably be eaten by a troll or something." said Harry jokingly, remembering that this was the year that she would actually be attacked by a troll. A Dumbledore like twinkle settled in his eyes as Hermione roared with laughter. Oh he would be teasing her with this on Halloween, of that he was certain.

"Anyway, tell me about your progress with the books." said Harry, and Hermione immediately straightened up and assumed her no nonsense attitude.

"Well, I have finished with the Occlumency book, and the theory book, and the law book, and I'm half way through the spells book." she rattled off excitedly.

"Wow. You're a fast reader Hermione. But tell me, did you practice Occlumency?" asked Harry, with a tinge of hopefulness in his voice.

"Yes, of course. After all, you said that it would be very important, and that is the first book I actually read and memorized. I cleared my mind and organized it every evening and, since you said I shouldn't, I didn't put up any shields." she said with a smile. Harry grinned at her fast progress. He knew that Hermione would be good at the Mind Arts, and it was a relief to see that she lived up to that fact.

"Good, now, you need to build a specific kind of shield. It is a good defense that I think will work best for you. What you do is, you create a small sphere of the toughest material you can imagine deep within your mind. In it you should put the memories you want no one looking at, and you create a spherical mirror around it, and you start putting unimportant memories in concentric spheres around all of that. Remember, only the most important and secretive memories you have, and embarrassing moments don't count. You probably should put the memories where you mention or study Occlumency inside too, in order to conceal the very fact that you know Occlumency." said Harry smartly. Hermione looked closely at him and blinked.

"What?" Harry asked when he caught the confused look on her face.

"Erm… Harry, that method wasn't mentioned in the book." she said slowly.

"So what? I'm telling you, I think it's the best method, and I'm using that method myself." said Harry. Of course, after he started practicing Occlumency as a baby in this life, he actually had to put everything that happened in his past life inside the sphere, and didn't have enough memories to complete a single layer around it. But as the years went by, unimportant memories accumulated, and some he even falsified and created from scratch, so if someone looked inside his mind, a sphere of diamond was nowhere to be found. Of course, the small mirror effect he put on the surface helped a lot with that, but it wasn't strictly necessary.

"But if it wasn't in the book, then how do you know this method?" she asked with a frown. Harry just rolled his eyes and sighed.

"It's because I devised it myself." said Harry slowly. Hermione's eyes widened as she looked at him in disbelief.

"Your- yourself? But, how?" she asked in confusion and disbelief.

"Well, it was easy I guess. I just took the best elements from all the techniques and put them in one technique that would have any legillimens failing. You see, peripheral shields are all good and dandy, but once anyone finds the shields, they instantly know that you know Occlumency, and they instantly know that you have something to hide. And having no shields and having to push out the legillimens out of your mind each time he enters it is quite stressful and useless. So I guess I combined the two most popular techniques into one technique that has both their strengths and none of their weaknesses." said Harry. A flicker of understanding dawned in Hermione's eyes as she remembered the techniques that she read from the book Harry gave her.

"Oh! I get it. This way the invader cannot possibly find what he is looking for, having to dig deep down, and he will be exhausted by the time he finds the shield, if he ever finds it that is. If he doesn't find it, then he thinks you have no training in Occlumency at all, and if he finds it, he will be too exhausted to batter at it." she thought aloud.

"Touché." said Harry with a smile. There was a comfortable silence as Hermione read from the book of spells Harry gave her. Harry was staring through the window at the country scenery when a knock came from the door before it was immediately opened.

"Erm… Hi. Has anyone seen a toad?" asked a familiar voice and Harry craned his neck from the window to the door to see Neville Longbottom standing uncomfortably on the doorway.

"Hey mate. I'm Harry Potter and this is Hermione Granger. Come in and sit down." said Harry in a friendly voice. Neville moved from the door and sat across them, but he seemed in a hurry.

"Hi, I'm Neville Longbottom." he said hastily as he stretched his arm to Harry. Harry shook it, and Hermione put down her book, smiled and shook his hand as well.

"Have you seen a toad? I lost Trevor when l was lifting my trunk on the rack in my compartment, and I can't find him." said Neville, hysteria creeping up in his voice slowly.

"Well, why don't you summon it? I mean you know its name. Trevor, right?" asked Harry with a raised eyebrow.

"Summon him? But I don't know how." said Neville demurely. Harry just smiled and pulled an ordinary looking wand from his pocket. An ordinary looking wand that wasn't a wand at all, but a simple stick made of mahogany, made to look sleek and polished like a wand.

"It's an easy charm, I read about it in a book. All you do is concentrate on what you want to summon and focus on your need for it to be in your hand. They you incant 'Accio' and the name of what you want to summon. Try it." said Harry with a smile.

"But- but I don't know the wand movements, and I haven't done any magic before." said Neville demurely, but Harry just smiled and encouraged him. Neville pulled out his wand, and Harry noted that it was a different wand altogether, most probably because Frank Longbottom reclaimed his wand after he was healed by the mysterious Pei Ling.

"Accio Trevor!" Neville half shouted, and he was demurred to see that the spell had no effect what so ever.

"Give it a little time mate, I'm sure it worked. That spell has never failed me yet." said Harry. Just as he finished talking, the toad in question flew from the doorway and settled in Neville's lap.

"Wow! I did magic! Wait till Gran hears about this! And mum and dad!" said Neville excitedly, his eyes glazed at the prospect of his Grandmother and his parents being proud of him.

"Don't forget to inform her that you did a fourth year spell." said Harry with a smile, and saw Neville's mouth hang open.

"F- Fourth year?" he asked incredulously.

"Yeah, fourth year." said Harry, smile firmly plastered on his face.

"I- I better go write Gran right away!" Neville said before he jumped up as if someone pinched him on the bottom and left the compartment in a hurry, a firm grip on his wand in his right hand and a soft grip on a struggling Trevor in his left.

"He seemed genuinely surprised that he could actually cast a spell." said Hermione as she picked up her book once again.

"Yeah. He grew up without his parents, and it had left doubts in him. He doesn't believe in himself enough." said Harry with a sad expression on his face.

"How do you know all this?" asked Hermione suspiciously.

"Oh, my mother and his mother were friends- are friends, so she told me about them. They were under the influence of a dark spell too long, which broke their minds. Some years later, his father's mother, Augusta Longbottom, had them dismissed from the hospital and brought them home, where they mysteriously recovered. The healers are still pestering her for the treatment she gave them, but the old lady refuses to say a word." said Harry in way of explanation. Hermione's eyes were wide with horror as she listened to his story.

"Oh my god. That's- Harry, that's awful. Can you imagine how he felt when his parent's couldn't recognize him. And can you imagine their sadness when they realized that they lost nearly ten years from their son's life?" she said as tears started to form in her eyes. Harry whipped up a handkerchief from nowhere, a trick he was getting good at, and whipped her tears as she stared in empty face, her face a mask of horror.

"Well, the important thing is that there was someone who helped them, and they are perfectly fine now." said Harry as he wiped away her tears. Hermione took a big breath of air and shook her head.

"You're right. It is fortunate that someone devised a cure for their… condition. Whoever it was, it must have been a very smart person." said Hermione with a small smile. Harry just grinned inwardly.

"You could say that." he said neutrally, although he was quite proud of the fact that Hermione thought that he was a very smart person, even if she didn't know that she gave that compliment to him.

Soon, there was another knock on the door, and Harry feared that it was Malfoy for a split second, before he remembered that Malfoy didn't even have the manners to knock, despite his pureblood upbringing. The door was opened and the lady with the trolley looked at them before she cleared her throat.

"Anything off the cart dears?" she asked Harry, as it was tradition in the wizarding world to ask the male first, because, as in elite restaurants, usually the man paid for the dinner. Now, the Hogwarts Express wasn't an elite restaurant, but it was still filled with purebloods, and those purebloods expected to be treated cordially and with respect. Therefore the lady who pushed the cart was a Squib that was well versed in pureblood tradition and decorum. The board of Governors was not slouching when it came to their precious little purebloods. Bastards.

"Sure lady. Hermione, what will you have?" asked Harry as he put a hand on the page she was reading from. Hermione had the tendency to keep reading and pay little attention to what was going on around her.

"Erm- I think I'll pass, Harry." said Hermione as she looked at the high sugar sweets on the trolley.

"Nonsense. Every brilliant mind has some level of addiction to good sweets, and I hear that the headmaster is particularly obsessed with lemon drops. I for instance, have a certain love for cauldron cakes." said Harry as he grabbed two handfuls of the cakes and placed them in the seat next to his.

"And of course, experimenting with Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans is always fun." he said as he took two packages of the infamous beans and placed them next to the cauldron cakes.

"Come on now Hermione. It's a rule. You want to be a brilliant witch; you have to have addiction to some type of sweet dessert. Pick your poison." said Harry firmly, before Hermione sighed and stood up to look at all the sweets.

"Well, I don't know. I haven't tasted any of these." said Hermione uncertainly, and Harry just grinned.

"It's settled then. She'll have three of everything except cauldron cakes and Every Flavor Beans. My treat" said Harry and delighted in watching Hermione's eyes widen comically as the trolley lady started systematically removing three of each type of sweat and give it to Harry. In the end, Harry had to start a second pile of sweets, because the seat with the cauldron cakes got full.

"Alright, now… carry the two… add three, plus nineteen, plus twenty five, carry the thirteen, times three… two galleons, sixteen sickles and three knuts." said the lady as Harry started to dig in his pouch, and by the time he handed the money, he realized that the pouch was half empty. Good thing Sirius pitched in with his secret moneybag, otherwise, he would have burned the money he had in the first two days. He had forgotten how to spare the money, since his seventeenth birthday from his past life gave him access to a huge vault filled to the brim that he could never possibly empty, or even spend half of the money within. Hermione huffed as the trolley squib- funny how everybody called her the trolley witch- closed the door.

"Harry, how in the world are we going to eat this?" asked Hermione, looking dazedly at all the candy on the seats opposite of them.

"Well, you don't have to eat it all at once. I figure we spare some for Hogwarts. We're not allowed to go to Hogsmead until our second year, so these will have to last us for the rest of the year." he said as he took a cauldron cake and opened it reverently. He opened his mouth as wide as it would go and took a huge bite off the cake, taking almost half of the cake in his mouth.

"Mmm, bwiff." he said with his eyes closed as he chewed on the chocolate coated blueberry cake.

"You're incorrigible, you know that?" asked Hermione as she took a curious wand looking sweet and examined it. Harry nodded toward her, and she huffed before she threw the wand back into the pile of sweats.

"My parents are dentists Harry. I'm not allowed to eat sweats, as it causes cavities, and even paradenthosis." said Hermione with a shake of her head as she remembered the speeches her parents gave her.

"Yah, that's why I use Willberg's Wizarding Toothpaste, guaranteed to keep your teeth strong, white and shiny under any conditions until the age of one hundred and forty." said Harry and grinned, showing off his pearly white and straight teeth. Hermione's eyes widened as she looked at his teeth, back at the candy, and back at his teeth again. She sighed in resignation before she picked up the strange wand and unwrapped it. She took a bite and immediately spat it out.

"Yuck. That's disgusting." she said, her face scrunched up in disgust.

"Licorice wands. Not your cup of tea, I presume?" asked Harry good naturedly. After three types of candy, and some halfhearted nods and disgusted spitting, Hermione took a bite from a chocolate frog and sighed.

"Chocolate frogs I gather?" asked Harry, and Hermione just nodded as she took another bite and closed her eyelids. Harry grinned, now knowing what type of candy to give her on Valentine's Day. He grabbed another cauldron cake and put his feet on his trunk, sighing in bliss as he once again bit into the cauldron cake.

Harry continued staring out of the window and eating a few more cauldron cakes, and soon enough it got dark and they were told through the intercom to change in their robes. Harry shrugged before he took his coat off and threw on his Hogwarts robe.

Soon enough they were sitting in the boats on the lake and they heard Hargrid's infamous below of 'FORWARD!!!', at which the boats lurched, unsurprisingly, forward. He heard a sharp intake of breath as Hermione looked at the castle, and he saw her face as it shined in happiness at her first sight of the magnificent castle, which gave quite an impressive sight with all its torches and candles lit in the darkness.

They were soon deposited into the hands of the experienced Professor McGonagall, who gave them her usual speech, at least, the usual speech that Harry knew, and soon enough they were called one by one to be sorted. He smiled as he heard what was undoubtedly Ron Weasley shake in fear as he told other two terrified student's that they had to battle a troll. Hearing their conversation almost made him miss Hermione's call to the stool of fate, as Harry liked to call the wooden tri-legged stool they were sorted on.

"Hermione Granger!" Harry heard McGonagall yell over the last vestiges of the cheering that the Gryffindors gave to one of their new first years. He saw Hermione resolutely straighten up and walk between the long tables until she was seated on the stool and had the Sorting Hat on her head. There was a long pause until the hat shouted "Ravenclaw!" and a brief scatter of applause from the upper years. Harry smiled at Hermione as she removed the hat from her head and seated herself on the table with the rest of the Ravenclaws.

"Harry Potter!" came McGonagall's voice, and soon enough, he was walking slowly between the tables, his mind working in a furious pace. He seated himself on the stool and the Hat was lowered to his head, until the darned thing covered his eyes.

"_Hm, well, well. Welcome to Hogwarts ,young Mister Potter, or should I say, welcome back Potter, you old fart. Two hundred years not enough for ye?"_ the hat asked mockingly, and Harry could almost hear himself sigh.

"_Gordon, the past is the past, and since only I remain to remember it, it is a different universe altogether. Shall we focus on the here and now? Now give me something to work with."_ said Harry with total calmness, even in his mental voice, which still sounded like the deep one he had back in his old body.

"_Well, now you'll know why I was to sort student's when they were __eleven__, not __ two hundred and eleven__. Do you always have to make my life difficult?"_ the hat asked in a whiny tone, and Harry nearly chuckled.

"_Now now Gordon. I don't want my sorting to turn into a farce. Just give me something to work with. You have been doing this for almost a thousand years. It's probably very easy by now. Now, which house?"_ asked Harry with a tone of urgency.

"_Well, since you're in such a hurry… Let's see. Gryffindor is a pretty good shot, Slytherin will have you as it's trophy no doubt, Ravenclaw is surely an option, and Hufflepuff… my such strong devotion to Albus, the old man would have a stroke if he knew that the next Merlin was practically worshipping him."_ the hat said with a soft chuckle.

"_He will know soon enough. For now, Ravenclaw will do."_ thought Harry, and the hat nearly choked on its laughter.

"_Oh, Mister Potter. So devoted you are to Hermione that Hufflepuff seems more of an option than any of the other houses."_ said the Hat in a curious voice.

"_Don't start this, you're not going to like it. Hufflepuff is a place for friendly people, hard workers. I am a hard worker, but only when it comes to knowledge. And I have, currently, only one friend that I'm not related to by blood."_ said Harry evenly. The hat laughed again.

"_Oh, playing head games with you seemed to be a delight of mine even in your 'old time'. But, you are trying to manipulate me Mister Potter, surely Slytherin is the House for you."_ said the Hat slyly. Harry could only sigh.

"_Gordon, for the love of Hogwarts, not again! Yes, I am cunning, but I have no ambitions or even delusions of gaining power what so ever. And my cunning is merely a byproduct of my intelligence, which is yet another reason to sort me in Ravenclaw. Besides, if I wanted to manipulate you, I wouldn't spend so much time on this stool playing head games with you, looking suspicious to old Albus, but take control over you and have your mouth shout Ravenclaw. Yet I didn't. I'm not controlling or manipulating you, I'm simply trying to make you see reason."_ Harry's voice was laden with frustration. The hat only chuckled in response, and it was really getting on Harry's nerves, short as they were.

"_True, true Mister Potter. But yet, to have such courage to stab yourself to death with a blade, surely you are a Gryffindor deep within."_ said the hat, a smile creeping up to its face. Harry was ready to grab the hat and rip it in two, but he took a deep breath and used Occlumency to calm himself.

"_Perhaps, a long time ago, when I was young and foolish. Nowadays, before I jump from the frying pan into the fire, I'm intelligent and experienced enough to calculate the odds. Even if it seems like flying off the handle, calculations and decisions are made in split seconds. And the odds are with me all the time. As for stabbing myself with the sword, it was a calculated risk, that, once calculated, ceased to be one. After all, true bravery is to do what you think is right when you are in fear despite the fear, and I haven't been afraid for a long, long time. I knew what the two possible outcomes my self-inflicted death by that sword would be, and I was afraid by none of them. I haven't done a deed worthy of a Gryffindor in quite some time. And now, my dear friend, there is only one option left for me, unless there exists secret and hidden fifth house for the oddballs such as me to sort me in, the percentage of probability of which, when calculated and multiplied by the lack of an available teacher with the required oddball traits to act as a head of the aforementioned theoretical house, is small enough to be unconditionally discarded as an unrealistic option."_ said Harry, his voice a tad triumphant.

"_Oh, alright you old fart. This is twice that you have beaten me in my own game. As such I think you just earned yourself a place in Ravenclaw. Suit yourself."_ grumbled the hat before it shouted to the Great Hall "Ravenclaw!" with a bit of a disappointment in its voice.

"_Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure. See you around Gordon."_ thought Harry with a grin just before the hat was ripped off his head by a flustered McGonagall. The entire Great Hall was staring at him, and Hermione's eyes were as inquisitive as always. He grinned at her before he stood up from the chair.

"What? No applause?" asked Harry in fake bewilderment, and suddenly Flitwick remembered that his house had gained another student and began clapping. A few of the older students that snapped back to reality clapped along with him, but his welcoming was weak at best. No 'we got Potter' chants, no banging on the table, just wide eyed faces staring at him. He scurried down and sat next to Hermione, the only student decent enough not to stare at him with her mouth open.

"Harry, what was that all about?" asked Hermione, already suspicious of him.

"How long did I take?" asked Harry eagerly, as if the sorting was a game, and cunningly using a question to distract her.

"Nearly ten minutes. I think you broke the record of the longest Sorting ever. You will probably be in the newspaper tomorrow." said Hermione, slightly affronted.

"Aye, fair lady, 'tis truly unfortunate; truly unfortunate that my name shall be wasted and slandered on those grey pages, while unanimated wizards and witches gossip and theorize about the supposed enigma I represent." said Harry mournfully. He didn't want to be in the newspapers. He knew how reporters could lie and bite.

"Harry, it's not a game. Why did the hat take so long?" she asked, already exasperated.

"I don't know. It seemed so intent to examine my mind, and I think that it was curious. It said that I was the most intelligent person in the room, and so we started to play a head game. I won, of course." said Harry triumphantly as he heard Zabini being sorted into Slytherin. Nothing new there.

"But Harry-" said Hermione, before she was interrupted by a finger on her lips. She quickly reddened with anger and was about to reprimand Harry for interrupting her, when she saw that the Headmaster was standing up and starting with a speech.

"I'm sure, with the unexpected length of the sorting," and here he looked curiously at Harry, "that your stomachs are grumbling for food already. So, I have only four words to say. Nitwit, Oddment, Blubber, Tweak." the old wizard said before he clapped his hands once. Harry grinned as he flicked a finger under the table at the same time the headmaster clapped. A wind picked up around the tables, but other than that, nothing happened. Harry face was red, and he wasn't breathing as he gazed at the bewildered face of the old Headmaster and his past mentor. He almost cracked a rib at the funny looks the teachers were giving the confused and bewildered Headmaster, and the disappointed looks of the students, especially the males in Gryffindor, whose mood and life depended on food.

"Well, that has surely never happened before. Let me try again. Nitwit, Oddment, Blubber, Tweak!" he said again, his voice louder and more clear this time with a commanding quality in it. He considered interfering with the link the Great Hall had with the kitchens again, but he wasn't sure if he could take the hilarity for a second time, so he sat back and allowed the food to appear. After all, he was just as hungry as anyone else.

The feast began in full swing, and Harry ate as much as he could without overeating, and even leaving place for that treacle tart dessert, which felt weird when he knew that it reminded him of Hermione's hair. Wizards were mental. But then again, who was Ron in love with? The boy ate everything in sight for as long as Harry had known him. Either the redhead was an insatiable pig, or he had the power the Dark Lord knew not, love, in far greater quantities than Harry ever did. Probably the former.

He smiled as he finished his treacle tart and got up with the schedule, which was deposited next to him at some point during the meal, firmly in his hand as he slowly started the long trek up to Ravenclaw tower. He would sleep like a baby tonight.

* * *

A/N: Well, I was always uncomfortable with welcoming feasts and such. I did my best. Flame me if you dare!!! If you don't dare, leave a nice _**REVIEW!!!**_


	5. The First Encounter

A/N: Greetings. A new chapter, after almost two months. I know you're not happy with me. I'm not happy with myself too. Lectures at uni have started, and someone has to listen to them. And that someone is me. So in order to not be dissapointed, expect one chapter per month from now on. That will be my deadline. One month.  
On the other side, some very good news. This chapter is beta-ed by _aalens_, who has agreed to be the beta reader. Hopefully, with her help, you will understand the story better.  
Don't forget to _**REVIEW!!!**_

Disclaimer: See Chapter One

Chapter Five: The First Encounter

_Dear Mum_

_Hogwarts is great. The castle is huge, and the Quidditch  
pitch is excellent. I have read Hogwarts, a History; and  
seeing the castle in real life is at least twice as amazing  
as the book makes it out to be. I'm having my first classes  
just this morning, right after breakfast. The fact that they  
don't give us a break after breakfast to wash our hands is  
quite disturbing. Are wizards immune to hepatitis?_

_Anyway, I got sorted into Ravenclaw. Not much surprise  
there. Guess what, Hermione is a witch too! She is with me,  
in Ravenclaw. I had some inkling that she was a witch since  
the day I met her, but I didn't speak of it since I didn't know  
for sure._

_She's muggleborn, of course, so it would be great if she could  
visit over the summer or the winter holidays, so you can explain  
the wizarding world from a muggleborn perspective, seeing as  
you are one, and give her a few hints._

_How is Jamie doing? Give him the letter so he can read it  
himself after you finish. And please write back. I miss you and  
I love you all. Is Sirius still being a… well, there is no way to  
put it politely, is there?_

_And how are you? How's the new job going? I hope you make  
it to a fully fledged healer. If the purebloods try to stop you, tell  
them that Harry Potter will be paying their asse(t)s a visit._

_I'll make you proud of me mum. You just watch me. I'm going to  
make a name for myself as the next best thing since Merlin and  
chocolate coated treacle tart with blueberry filling._

_Give Jamie a big hug and Sirius a big conk on the head from me._

_Love_

_Harry_

Harry reread his letter to his mum, before he sealed the envelope with wax and threw it out the window. Hedwig flew right under it and caught it before changing direction, flying south-west to Wales.

He was still sleepy, because he had made a minor bonding ritual in the owlry last night with Hedwig, tying her down as his familiar. They couldn't communicate with thoughts or feelings, or anything exaggerated like that, but they both had an instinctive feeling where the other was and what the other was doing. It was like looking for something under the sofa; you knew what your hand was doing, even though you couldn't see it. That is how Fawkes knew Albus was in danger when Voldemort threw that killing curse in the Atrium of the Ministry, which to Harry seemed ages ago, even though it hadn't happened yet.

There was something… different about Ravenclaw house. The tower was magically expanded to look smaller on the outside, but on the inside it was big enough to give each student his own room, even though the room itself was modest at best. There was a single bed against one wall, not as large as the ones in Gryffindor; Gryffindors seemed to prefer luxury and comfort over privacy. A medium sized desk had been placed against the window in order to use the daylight as much as possible. Right next to the door that led to a stairwell down to the common room, there was a small closet in which Harry hung his clothes , so they wouldn't get wrinkled in his trunk. Also, there was a small bedside cabinet next to the bed, and a door on one the walls that led into a small bathroom, with just a toilet, a shower stall and a small sink with a mirror above it. Modest, but really practical.

His wristwatch vibrated, and he pulled his sleeve up and pressed a small button on one side. It was a regular wristwatch, a mechanical one of course, since electrical appliances couldn't work in Hogwarts because of the ancient wards. It wasn't the amount of magic that bugged out anything electrical in Hogwarts, as everyone else thought, but a specific ward; a ward against lightning - that surrounded Hogwarts. It was an ancient ward, and he guessed that one of the founders, possibly Rowena or Helga, or maybe even Salazar himself, had been afraid of thunder. So this ward had been erected. Purebloods claimed that since technology didn't work in Hogwarts, wizards weren't meant to mingle with filthy muggles. Of course, if the ward wasn't there, they would also say that a thunder storm was clearly a sign that the gods were angry that they had let muggleborn filth inside Hogwarts, if anyone would believe the bigoted bastards. Nevertheless, the ward that prevented lightning striking the grounds also prevented every kind of organized direct electric current. He figured that something that worked on alternative current wouldn't be stopped by the wards, but then again, the castle was built before the existence of electricity was discovered, and there wasn't an electric installation to plug in AC electrical appliances.

His thoughts came back to the wristwatch as he rubbed its glass face. He had found it thrown and broken one day in the school grounds; the school grounds of his primary school that is. He had kept it, and when he got home, late at night, when everyone was asleep, he turned the small broken watch into an incredible timepiece. It wasn't flashy looking or anything, but he had enchanted it to be water, pressure, shock, fire and frost resistant. He also enchanted it to show the phases of the moon as well as the alignment of Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn and Uranus with the Sun as the reference point. Also, he had built in a vibration charm, one that he had embarrassedly procured from a Witches Weekly copy in his former life, converted it into an enchantment and configured it to activate when the hands of the watch reached a certain position, one which he could modify, and thus act as a silent alarm, which would be very useful, as he sometimes lost track of time. The steel back end he had enchanted the same as one of the mirrors that Sirius had given him in his former life, and now all he needed was to find a small feminine watch, or buy one, enchant it just as his was, and give it to Hermione. That way he could establish contact with her wherever she was.

The vibration on his wrist that had occurred not moments ago meant that breakfast would be served in fifteen minutes, so he quickly got dressed, put his wand in the wrist holster, and watched the holster turn invisible. Harry smiled. That was why Ollivander had winked at him. He had said that he had made the holster himself, and it seemed he had added a few enchantments on it as well. The old wand crafter was… crafty.

When he had washed his face and got ready, he exited his room; quickly descended the stairs by sliding down the rail, using a small wandless balancing charm, and landed on his cushioned boots in the common room.

"Harry! You're not supposed to be doing that! It's dangerous! You could fall down and break your neck!! What were you thinking?!" exclaimed Hermione after she saw the manner in which he descended into the common room.

"Although I do appreciate your worry, I used a balancing charm before I got on the rail. Now, what is our first class?" asked Harry, quickly distracting her in order to spare himself a nagging session.

"Well, we have double charms with Flitwick, and then double Herbology. Come on, breakfast is about to be served." said Hermione before she grabbed his hand and dragged him from the common room and through flights of stairs and corridors before they emerged in the Great Hall. It seemed that Hermione had remembered the way back from Ravenclaw Tower from yesterday, but he wasn't impressed. It was Hermione after all.

Breakfast was a noisy affair, as always, since many of the older students had a subscription to the Daily Prophet, and many of the younger students had forgotten something at home, which was sent to them today via owl post. As soon as the flapping of owl wings was heard, Harry pulled out his wand and drew a line around his and Hermione's plates. Hermione looked curiously as Harry drew the line on the table around their plates and goblets, and heard him muttering under his breath. The yellow line flashed once as he closed it, and Harry put his wand back before he sit down, just in time to see the flock of owls soar above them. The older students immediately drew their wands and started flicking away the feathers that, if they didn't interfere, would land in their plates and ruin their breakfast.

"'Scuse me, miss, could you pass the salt, please?" said Harry to the sixth year boy next to him. Or what appeared to be a boy.

"What you mean Miss?" said the boy, as if offended, but Harry just grinned.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I have a cold. Come off it now, miss. There is much more to being a metamorphmagus than changing the way you look." said Harry with a grin. The boy lifted an eyebrow before it morphed into a girl with long black hair and dark brown eyes.

"How did you know?" she asked curiously, and Harry grinned.

"Your posture and your scent. You were acting… feminine and you wear a woman's perfume. Of course, you could have been gay, but then again, you're not." said Harry, the grin never leaving his face. Of course, _knowing _that there was a metamorphmagus in this house five years 'older' than him didn't hurt his assumptions at all.

"I'll keep that in mind." said the girl with an easy smile before she passed the salt.

"Thanks. I thought you forgot." said Harry with a smile as he shook the saltshaker above his potatoes.

"I'm in Ravenclaw. We rarely forget." said the girl before she returned to her breakfast.

Hermione seemed glad that the girl stopped her conversation with Harry, and she started talking about the teachers on the head table.

"So, Harry, what do you think of the teachers?" asked Hermione as she gazed at Dumbledore.

"Well, I have limited information on them besides Dumbledore, who is more or less famous. I know that Flitwick, our head of house, had been a dueling champion for five years in a row during his… relative youth. He is very smart, which should be obvious given he is the head of Ravenclaw. McGonagall has been teaching transfiguration ever since Dumbledore vacated the Transfiguration Professor position and became Headmaster. She is very stern and demanding, but she is fair and, dare I say it… a Quidditch fanatic. Snape, well, that is an unsavory character. Compared to the other teachers, he is very young and inexperienced in teaching. I've heard rumors that he is… biased. He favors his own house while heavily critiquing the rest. He especially loathes Gryffindors because he had been a Slytherin not that long ago. He was a good childhood friend with my mother, but their friendship was broken when he said something truly horrible and offending to her in front of all the school. Pomona Sprout, or just Sprout, is head of Hufflepuff and teaches herbology. Not much I can say about her, except the fact that she will be angry with you if you mistreat her plants. I don't know much about the others." said Harry between mouthfuls of food.

"You seem to know much about the teachers." said a voice, but it wasn't Hermione. He looked across the table and saw Su Li, her thin black eyebrows elegantly arched in a silent demand of explanation.

"I do know something, but rest assured, what I know only stems of what my mother and my godfather have told me, since all of the teachers I know something about , bar Snape, have taught them while they were at Hogwarts too." said Harry with a smile. Su Li smiled and stretched her hand over the table, having to stand up to do so.

"I'm Su Li, a first year." said the little girl. Harry stood up a little too and shook her hand.

"Harry Potter, likewise, and a pleasure to meet you." said Harry with a friendly smile on his face.

They started to chat a bit about themselves and about the school. Su Li said that she liked Hogwarts so far, and was very eager to learn magic. Harry already knew this, as every Ravenclaw was eager to learn magic. Su Li also said, when asked, that she may be related to Cho Chang, though not very closely. Next to her, a girl that introduced herself as Mandy didn't say much, bar that she was muggleborn and that she didn't believe in magic at first. It was a very boring and closed conversation, limited to a couple words, but then again, he didn't expect much from first years. He spotted Dumbledore standing up from the corner of his eye, and he turned towards the old man to see what he had to say.

"I'm sorry that I will have to cut your breakfast a little short, but there were some things left unsaid last night due to the length of the sorting." he said, and the hall quieted down when everyone realized that the old Headmaster was speaking.

"Now, I welcomed you all already, but I didn't tell you the rules of Hogwarts. First rule is, the Forbidden Forest is exactly that, forbidden. Dangerous creatures creep between those trees, and I don't want any students of mine to get hurt, so please, spare this old man a few heart attacks." he said, sneakily glancing at the redheaded twins in Gryffindor, who in turn, raised their goblets cheekily at Dumbledore in salute and downed the contents in one go.

"Second rule, and this one is not as strict as the others, magic in the corridors is forbidden. If you wish to study, practice or whatnot, please do so in an empty classroom or in your common room. And of course, there is a list of banned items attached on the door of the caretaker's office that you are expected to abide to. And finally the third rule. If one doesn't wish an extremely painful death, then one is not to go to the third floor corridor." said Dumbledore, all twinkle in his eyes gone, no smile on his face, just to show the students that it is no joke. He raised his watch in front of his serious eyes and observed the time.

"You have fifteen minutes to get to class. I suggest you use them wisely. Good luck." he said to the hall as a whole, and he sat back down. Harry immediately stood up and walked out of the hall. He looked behind him and was surprised that Hermione wasn't there. But Hermione was another entity, not his shadow, and she had the right to do whatever she liked. He went to the nearest bathroom and turned the taps, washing his hands and splashing his face. His first class for today was charms, and then herbology, both doubles. He removed a miniature bag from his pocket and it immediately expanded into a real-life-size schoolbag. Of course, his mother offered him his father's school bag to wear, but Harry didn't want anything to happen to one of the only things he had left from his dad.

So, with his school bag on his shoulder, he continued walking up the steps to the charms classroom. He entered it, and he wasn't surprised to see that he was the first student, scratch that, the first person there. After all, Flitwick knew where his classroom was located, and the rest of the first years were confident, overconfident, that they would find the classroom with no problems. Harry knew that was going to happen if and only if they followed Flitwick to his classroom, and he had an inkling that they wouldn't. Flitwick arrived just as Harry had settled in the very middle of the classroom. Seconds ticked by as Harry watched lazily out the window and Flitwick was probably arranging and reviewing his lesson plans for today. Student's slowly started filtering in, having finally found the classroom, probably with the help of a prefect. He was keeping his hand on the chair next to him, saving a place for Hermione, but he was surprised to see that Hermione entered the classroom talking animatedly with Su Li, and that she didn't even look around for him before she sat herself next to the little Chinese girl, both directly in front of Flitwick's desk.

He was a tad jealous and angry because she had forgotten about him, but, then again, the more mature side of him was happy that she was starting to make some friends. He removed the hand from the seat next to him, and soon enough Neville plopped happily down next to him. The round faced boy didn't say anything, but no words were needed. He was exuding a quiet confidence from inside, an inner peace. His hands weren't shaking, his fingers weren't twitching, his shoulders weren't tense, and his face was relaxed. It seemed like Neville's problems had all disappeared over night, and Harry was happy for the boy. He noticed that a lot of the student's were pointing towards Flitwick and snickering, and he didn't need to guess to understand what they were laughing at. The diminutive professor had to stack several thick tomes on his chair before he seated himself, and even then he had to lift his hands nearly shoulder high shoulder high before placing them on the desk.

"Quiet now, quiet. Welcome to your very first Charms Class. My name is Filius Flitwick, and today I will introduce you to magic in general, and to charms specifically…" he started squeaking passionately, and to Harry's astonishment, the students actually listened. He hadn't noticed in his former life, but Flitwick had a certain… charm would be a bad pun, but… a certain… charisma about him, that made people want to listen to him, despite his comic appearance and awfully high voice. He wondered if he had had the same thing in his former life, because even though he didn't think himself as anything special, wizards and witches seemed to gravitate around him, especially when he gave a speech. He fondly remembered his first speech in the Hog's Head, how naïve he had been back then, and how he hadn't noticed that people hung at his every word. It was not until years later that he had realized that it was a quality rare amongst wizards, and the only wizards he knew who possessed that same quality were Dumbledore, Tom Riddle, and now, Flitwick.

He listened with half an ear to the speech the small but powerful professor gave about magic while he scanned the faces of the people around him. Everyone was listening; even the Gryffindors who had been laughing before the lecture began. He noticed Hermione deftly taking notes, and chuckled quietly at her enthusiasm. She still took notes, even though all the theory she would need in her life was encompassed in the book he had given her and she had memorized. He gazed once more through the window at the white peaks of the mountains in the distance, the same mountains that one could see from the Ravenclaw common room. He had a rough idea about the philosopher's stone, but he tried not to think about it much. Even without his mother's protection, the bumbling wizard named Quirinus Quirrell wasn't something to worry about.

There was something else bugging him. Dumbledore hadn't sent someone after him with an invitation to his office. Perhaps the old wizard didn't want to play favorites this early in the game; perhaps he was trying to scope how Harry did in classes without outside influence, by himself; or perhaps he was only waiting for an excuse to invite him for a little chat. He wouldn't know until he met with the old man.

One thing was for sure, he would have to reveal everything to the old Headmaster in the beginning of his second year at the latest. For one, he didn't want to play games of cat and mouse with the headmaster, and for another, he felt it would be unfair to keep the old man in the dark. True, the old man himself kept Harry in the dark in his previous life, but that was because Harry didn't know Occlumency, and therefore had no means to protect any sensitive information the old man could impart. But in his case, the Headmaster knew more than enough Occlumency to keep Voldemort out of his head even during the stress of battle. That was why Harry decided that the headmaster would be filled in early on.

The bell rang, and Harry hastily put his books back into the bag before he trotted off with Neville to their next class for the day, herbology. They were introduced to Pomona Sprout, and they had a fairly decent class, although Harry thought that it was boring. Herbology wasn't his forte, but he was more than happy to observe Neville working with a smile on his face. Again, Hermione had paired with Su Li, and he observed them quietly while helping Neville halfheartedly with menial tasks.

School was as boring as he figured it would be, and not even the library was interesting, since he had read every single book in it, plus the books that were in the headmaster's library during his tenure as headmaster. This was one of the reasons that he had become headmaster of the school, the headmaster's library was vast and dealt with all kinds of magic, from light through dark, from the simplest of charms to the most complex of rituals.

He figured that he would go crazy very soon if he didn't find some… extracurricular activities to occupy his time with. Hermione was still chatting up storms with Su Li as they headed for the Great Hall for lunch, and he was forced to sit next to Michael Corner of all people. He wanted to slap the boy by the time the dessert appeared on the tables, but he restrained himself and as soon as the desert was gone from the tables, he exited the Great Hall and went to his dorm. Classes for today were over, as far as the first year Ravenclaws were concerned, and he sat himself in front of his desk in his room in the Ravenclaw dorm and stared out the window, unseeing. Hogwarts was boring. He knew everything they could possibly teach him here, and the first years were boring and as articulate as fish. By now he wouldn't mind if Snape rushed into his dorm and started to throw insults and curses at him. At least he would be entertained.

"What to do, what to do…" he muttered under his breath as he ran his hands through his messy hair. Then he remembered that Voldemort had a horcrux in the Room of Requirement, right there in Hogwarts.

"Well… When in Rome…" Harry muttered and stood up from the desk.

The Room was an extraordinary piece of magic that even he didn't know how to make, not that he ever needed such a thing. It always fascinated him how the room appeared at the whim of a person in need, Occlumency or not. And he needed to destroy that horcrux. He paced three times left and right, thinking about hiding the broken quill that rested innocently in his hands, and the door to the Room of Requirement appeared on the wall of the seventh floor corridor, right opposite the portrait of some barmy wizard who was deluded into thinking that he could teach some trolls ballet. Ever since that painting had been hung up, the wizard on it had made no progress in his efforts, yet Harry had to give him credit, as the wizard hadn't even thought of giving up.

Entering the room and closing the door softly behind him, he looked around and saw the piles of dusty items before he carelessly threw the broken quill on top of one. There were tons of knickknacks, some broken, some working just fine, some so old that their very purpose eluded him. He paid them little attention as he went in search for the tiara that he knew was somewhere near a statue of an old and ugly warlock. He traversed through piles and rows of junk, some of which could very well be priceless, his eyes darting here or there, in tireless search of a dusty and tarnished tiara, or at least a chipped statue of an old and ugly warlock. Each step was fast, and in sync of the steps he took so many years ago, when he had mortally wounded Draco Malfoy, and was desperate to hide the book. Of course, after that moment he had never touched that book, although he wouldn't mind having a quick read through it now, not for the modified potions formulae, but for the spells that Snape had invented when he was a Hogwarts student. No matter which side he was on in the end, the fact remained that Snape had remained a death eater for an extended period of time before he switched sides, and during that time he might have thought to teach the death eaters to cast those very spells. He was sure that anything from his large arsenal of battle shields could stop a spell designed by a teenaged Snape, but then again, not everyone knew as much magic as he did, nor could everyone learn it or cast it.

He stirred out of his reverie as his hand extended unwittingly towards an old and tarnished tiara, and he was just in time to stop his hand from touching it. He wiped the sweat from his brow, and realized that he was sweating profusely. He lifted his eyebrow slowly, but then he realized that he had virtually relived a very stressful moment of his life, and if he remembered well, which he had no doubt that he did, he had been sweating buckets back then as well. He took a deep breath and his heart stopped completely, before restarting a pair of seconds later with a much calmer beat.

His wand shot out from his arm holster and he waved it over his head, instantly drying himself and replacing the sickly smell of sweat with a nice scent of apples. It didn't smell like a fine French perfume, but it would do for now. He looked down at the tiara and his eyes narrowed instantly. His wand immediately went to work, casting all kinds of detection charms on the tiara, some of them so powerful that they blew the dust off it. There weren't any dark spells on the tiara, bar the presence of a fraction of an evil soul. The rest of the magic was unknown and ancient, probably the enchantments that made the wearer of the tiara wiser and more intelligent.

He grasped the tiara in one hand before he started to mumble under his breath that he needed a chamber able to withstand fiendfyre. The room around him shifted and spun for a moment before it settled again into an empty stone chamber. Harry smiled as he looked around the empty room. The room of requirement was a wonderful piece of magic indeed, and he figured that he just found himself a subject of entertainment for at least two years in Hogwarts. He would study the room and the objects inside when he was bored and had nothing better to do. He placed the tiara in the middle of the room, his smile gone and he stepped back before he raised his hand, the wand in it pointing directly at the tiara. Before he could cast the fiendfyre spell on the tiara, a familiar, albeit a transparent figure, rose from the tiara, its blood red eyes staring at him.

"Who are you, boy?" hissed out Voldemort menacingly. While his image didn't yet have the slits for nose, his hair was already gone and he was as pale as a sheet. Harry slowly sat himself down and crossed his legs underneath him, before lifting his gaze to stare directly in the red eyes of the monster before him.

"Don't you know? I'm the one prophesized to be your downfall. And your downfall I shall be, _Voldemort_." Said Harry in a calm voice, knowing that the shade before him was tied to the tiara, and that it couldn't escape, let alone hurt him.

"I can give you power, boy. Join me. You know that I am immortal. You cannot possibly kill me." said Voldemort in a seducing whisper, and Harry felt legilimency probes start to shift through his mundane memories, but he knew it would take a lot more than that to convince him to join Voldemort.

"Gee, I don't know. How much power can you give me? Can you give me world peace? And can you go back in time and stop yourself from killing my father?" asked Harry sarcastically, his face a mask of fury.

"It is war, boy. I doubt you know much about war, but in war, death is common, as is collateral damage. It is not my fault that your father stood like a fool in front of a wizard as powerful as I." said Voldemort heatedly, even though he didn't yet know who the boy in front of him was, or that he really killed his father. As he said, in war, death and collateral damage were quite common occurrences.

"I know quite a lot about war. I know that during and after war, the aggressing party is held responsible for all its crimes. And in this case, the aggressing party is you." said Harry before calming down a bit.

"Stop this bickering and join me. You can have anything that you desire." said Voldemort, the seductive hiss back in his voice, which again did nothing to persuade the boy in front of him.

"Anything I desire. We both know that is not true, _Voldemort_. You just lied to me. You know I desire you dead, you know I desire world peace, and you know I desire my father back, and you know you cannot give me any of those. Therefore, I can have nothing I desire. And it is making me angry." said Harry, his face a mask of indifference. He knew the horcrux was done for but there was a small sliver of hope for Tom Riddle, the wizard who fell from grace, fell into the immoral embrace of the addiction of the dark arts.

"I can make you not desire those things any more. I can make you forget about them. I can make the pain of losing your father disappear." hissed Voldemort slowly, as if uncertain. Harry noted this mentally. The hope that Tom would come back from the darkness grew in him. A little bit.

"What, you sincerely think that this is going to persuade me? Oblivion is not the answer to a question, _Tom_, it is forgetting the question altogether. Oblivion is running from a problem, not solving it. Oblivion is what you have done your whole life, and it has made you what you are today. _A monster_. And you know what happens to monsters. They get slain near the end of the story. I don't need to explain this to you _Tom_, you are frightfully intelligent. Sadly, what you have in intelligence you lack in wisdom, and that was, is, and will be, your downfall." said Harry easily, as he was talking about the weather. Voldemort spluttered, actually spluttered at the response he got, but Harry didn't give him the chance to start a rant that would only waste his time.

"But, you have Ravenclaw's diadem here, which is rumored to bestow upon the wearer extraordinary wisdom. Surely you have come across its legend when you have researched the items you wanted to turn into your little trinkets. What I don't see clearly is why you haven't used the diadem to bestow on yourself this wisdom. Perhaps then you would see the error in your ways. Immortality is not a way to cheat death, it is a way to imprison yourself with the hardships of life, forever. Surely you know that?" asked Harry, his eyes for once showing the wisdom of the two hundred year old man behind them.

"You speak like Dumbledore, that old mudblood lover. I see that he has brainwashed you as well." hissed out Voldemort in anger, but Harry was already on his feet.

"You are to set in your ways for any kind of redemption, Tom, you and I both know that. I just hoped it weren't true, and I hoped that when I offered you redemption, you would accept. I realize now that I was being optimistic to the point of foolishness. We will have to do this the hard way, Tom. Things being as they are now, I can offer you only one thing: mercy. The mercy of dying quickly. Goodbye, Tom." said Harry, before fiery red orange and golden yellow flames erupted from his wand and formed that familiar dragon, a dragon that didn't need goading or instructions. It already knew its task, and it swallowed the horcrux that lay in the middle of the room. Tom's screams echoed eerily in the large stone chamber, but it was all over in less than five seconds. Harry dropped his arm to his side, sighing as his fingers relaxed and the wand snapped back up his forearm, settling in the invisible holster that was strapped to it.

"You can't stand peace while you are alive, Tom. I just hope you can achieve it in death." said Harry, sincerely hoping that Tom Marvolo Riddle, the misfortunate boy would find peace in death, the peace he couldn't have after Voldemort took over and overshadowed him. Perhaps the first horcrux Tom had made would yield better results. After all, he didn't remember anyone being killed in his second year. Petrified, yes, but killed… no.

===== Location unknown, Time unknown =====

"He materialized again. I felt it. Tell me you tracked him down." growled out a figure that sat on a throne, shrouded in shadow.

"Yes your unholliness. We've tracked him. He has finally made a mistake. Let's see, let's see… Hah! Verse three hundred and seventeen. He made only a short jump sire. From verse three hundred and sixteen to the next one, and only two hundred years back" squeaked a comically high and raspy voice, which belonged to a small goblin like creature with three eyes and a hump on its back.

"Step closer Sulark." spoke the shrouded figure calmly and commandingly. The goblin like creature named Sulark immediately jumped up with a happy smile on its face, and scooted closer to its master. A massive black hand flashed from out the darkness and grabbed Sulark around its thin neck firmly, causing the creature to rasp and splutter and choke.

"You should have tracked him when he made the jump. You wasted me more than eleven years with your sniveling excuses." said the shrouded figure menacingly. Although, many of his servants didn't know it, but the person with the unknown identity was a great actor, and he usually acted angrier than he really was. He played the impulsive brainless leader so that when competition stirred up, and it usually did, they would take him for an impulsive moron. And an impulsive moron he was not.

"Prepare a jump to the same verse. We will find him and kill him." spoke the figure before it stood from its shadowed throne, releasing Sulark by flinging him away from the throne. It was at least as big as Hagrid, with a black face with red tattoos on it, and curved red horns on the top of its head. Its eyes were completely black, with open malevolence shining in them.

"Yes, your unholliness. Right away." said the sulking figure of Sulark, disappointed that it didn't get recognition from the head honcho himself.

"It's time I settled the score with that foolish dragon." muttered the demonic figure before it disappeared from the throne room.

===== Room of Requirement, Autumn 1991 =====

There was that burning sensation in his forearm again, and this time it was a lot stronger. His legs gave up on him and he dimly registered his knees hitting the hard stone floor beneath him. His vision was getting blurry and tears sprung from his eyes, but he didn't scream out. He had felt worse pain than this in his life, but his juvenile body wasn't prepared for pain. Not even a minute in the burning pain he lost consciousness.

"Harry Potter." an impossibly deep voice rumbled in the darkness. He tried to open his eyes, but he found that they were already opened. He tried to summon light, but his attempts failed. Magic didn't work, wherever he was. He was standing on some sort of hard surface, but it was too dark to see what exactly the surface was.

"Harry Potter." said the voice again, and this time Harry turned towards it. His eyes settled in the darkness, precisely where the voice was coming from.

"Show yourself." said Harry commandingly. A pretty brave action for someone who doesn't have the means to defend himself. He had duped the Sorting hat, it seemed. As soon as the last consonant left his mouth, two golden lights appeared in front of him, golden lights that looked disturbingly like eyes. And they were eyes. A snout sucked in breaths in front of them, and golden scales appeared out of nowhere, two bat like wings, short limbs with sharp claws, a long serpentine body that ended with a spiked tail. They all appeared one by one, as if the light in this place was awfully slow in revealing the disturbingly familiar figure in front of him. An exact real life copy of the tattoo on his forearm.

"I warned you not to use that spell." said the deep voice slowly, as if chiding a little child.

"What are you?" whispered Harry Potter to himself as he gazed on the magnificent sight before him. The figure however, heard the whispered question and answered.

"I am a golden dragon. My name is too long and… animalistic for you to pronounce, but I have been called Darakh by humans in the past. You may use that name if you wish." said the golden dragon in its ethereal voice.

"Darakh. Ok. Now… where are we?" asked Harry before he turned around, his gaze darting around in every direction.

"We are in my mindscape Harry. Of course, you, being a skilled Occlumens, already know what a mindscape is." said the dragon evenly, as if he already suspected that Harry knew the answer of his question even before he posed the question itself. And his suspicions were dead right.

"Alright. We are in your mindscape, where you dragged me unwillingly. That means you want something. Which is…?" asked Harry, before the dragon huffed.

"Straight to the point I see. I figured you would like to have a little chat with me. But no matter, there will be enough time for chatting in the nights to come. The reason I dragged you here before you had the chance to let your curiosity do the work for me, is that you have fired the fiendfyre spell for the second time in this verse. And both spells had my magical signature all over it. I have enemies, or rather, an enemy that is very powerful and amoral. He will soon track me down, and try to implement the shortest way to kill me. He will try to kill the host. Namely, you." said Darakh unemotionally. Harry noticed this.

"Judging by the tone of your voice, and by using try as the main verb, I imagine you have some plan. And I need you to explain who is this powerful enemy and when is the estimated time of his arrival." said Harry, his mind already making plans.

"It will not be as easy as you expect it to be Harry. And yes, I have managed to formulate a rough plan in the past eleven years. As of my enemy, he is a demon." said Darakh

"A demon! But demons are a myth!" exclaimed Harry. When he was in the International Confederation of Wizards in his past, a wizard tried to get the confederation to invest millions of galleons for creating spells that would defend them against an actual demon invasion. Of course, everyone laughed back then, mainly because no one had seen a demon since the time of Merlin. Demons were considered a myth.

"Golden dragons are considered a myth too Harry. And yet here you are, talking to one. And I think that you should have approved the funds requested by the wizard. We would have stood a better chance. But then again, it is only one demon coming at us, not an invasion.

"Only one? Well, I guess I could take him-" said Harry, but he was interrupted before he could say anything else.

"No. You cannot take him. Merlin tried to go against one, and he won… barely. Common human magic doesn't work on demons, and even though we trained him in dragon magic, he still almost had his head torn off by the demon. And it was a substantially weaker demon than the one coming after us." said the dragon in a loud and commanding voice. Apparently loud and commanding enough to make Harry think that the dragon was angry.

"Whoa! Keep your pants on big guy. I was only making a suggestion." said Harry defensively.

"Merlin was only making a suggestion too, and we still had to patch him up afterwards. Do not even think of going there. As I said, I have a plan." said the Dragon after calming down a bit.

"Now, when is this pesky demon arriving?" asked Harry curiously.

"Pesky demon, huh? Demons are evil Harry. And one average demon is ten times more powerful than all the Dark Lords you have ever fought , combined. If my plan doesn't work, we will be doomed." said the dragon, but there was little doubt in his mind that the plan wouldn't work.

"Enough with the gloom and doom stuff. When is the demon arriving?" asked Harry, the protected core of his mind already making plans of his own.

"We are in luck. Last time I destroyed their time streaming device, so my guess is they will be arriving in three years." said Darakh, with no little amount of smugness in his voice.

"A lucky shot at the flux capacitator, no doubt." answered Harry, his voice gaining that familiar detached quality when one was thinking deeply.

"I see you have considered all your options. It takes two thousand years to build one, and demons are not known for their patience." said the Darakh.

"So, if you didn't have a flux capacitator, how in the hell did you manage to jump into the past?" asked Harry curiously.

"Well, after you preformed the ritual, and you technically sacrificed yourself to me, I sucked your soul in. From it I found out where you wanted to go. All I had to do then was take your age and search a universe that was at least three years away from your birth. And I found this one. The jump itself took three years, but I had wait in limbo for another year or so, just so we could arrive in the proper time. Of course, all the calculations had to take place in less than two minutes, as you had set the bombs to blow up in two minutes, so I didn't have time to find a universe exactly three years before your birth." said the Darakh, again smug with himself and his fast thinking.

"Hmmm. I didn't realize that traveling through universes would take time. And what about the other Harry?" asked Harry uneasily, as this question had bothered him a lot. Could it be that his greed and selfishness had destroyed the life of an unborn baby. Even Voldemort waited until the children of prophecy to be born in order to kill them first. And he did it for his own survival, while Harry did it for his own selfishness and convenience.

"What other Harry? If you are thinking about the Harry in this world, you needn't worry. There wouldn't have been one. At least not for long." said Darakh.

"What do you mean 'not for long'?" asked Harry interestedly.

"From what I could detect from the time stream, baby Harry would have existed for only three days after his birth." said the Dragon simply.

"But, why?" asked Harry, not comprehending what the dragon was trying to say.

"If a baby is conceived without a soul, it automatically dies within the womb or it is delivered stillborn. If a the newborn's body has a weak connection with the soul, it dies several days after being born. That is why you have no memories of the first couple of days on this world. Little Harry was still alive. And there was no way for me to save him. If I left you both in the same body, you both would have gone insane. Replacing him with you seemed to fit the situation." said Darakh in explanation.

"Right. Well, I best be off then. I rarely go down to my own mindscape. I usually lose track of time. See you around then." said Harry. Darakh just nodded and his glowing figure dimmed.

===== Room of Requirement, Autumn 1991 =====

Harry woke with a start. He ran a hand on his jaw line, and sighed in relief. In his previous life, he had gone into his mindscape one night clean shaven, and woken up a week afterwards, extremely dehydrated and with a full beard. He knew from his rehabilitation that dehydration wasn't a joke. And then he remembered that his body was too young to be growing any kinds of beards, so the tenseness in his shoulders came back to him. He looked down at his watch and read the time. The Time. 12:37:55 A.M, September the Fourth, 1991 A.D. His extremely fast and complex mind ground to a halt, only one single thought in it. One word. Shit.

Not losing another second he jumped up from the cold stone floor and exited the Room of Requirement. He walked with a fast pace, not daring to run, while his mind restarted with its usual speed and started thinking about excuses - excuses for disappearing from Hogwarts' grounds for more than twenty four hours. His feet dragged him towards the Gryffindor tower before he remembered that he was a student in Ravenclaw now, so he steered himself in the right direction and continued thinking. When he climbed the staircase, the portrait was opened and he slipped in, too pessimistic to believe that his little escapade went unnoticed, but yet too optimistic to abandon all hope. He quietly crept inside his dorm room and closed the door behind him. When he turned around, he saw Albus Dumbledore calmly sitting in the chair of his desk and sucking on what probably was a lemon drop.

"Good evening Harry." said the Headmaster shortly, as if he was meeting with an old friend, but his inquiring gaze spoke a lot more than the three words he uttered. Harry, for his benefit, decided to play dumb.

"Ah, good evening Headmaster. How are you?" asked Harry with an innocent tone, as if he didn't realize how long he was missing.

"Relatively fine, so to say. I would be delighted if you would join me in my office. We have a lot to discus about, what with your recent disappearance." said the old headmaster before he got up from Harry's chair and pulled out his wand, casting a multiple patronus charm, no doubt calling the search off.

"Shall we?" asked the headmaster after he opened the door and saw Harry looking curiously at him.

"Of course. That was a neat piece of magic. What spell was that?" asked Harry interestedly as they walked side by side through the empty corridors of the school.

"That Mr. Potter, was the patronus charm. Don't worry about it yet, you won't get to learn it until your seventh year." said Dumbledore in an amused tone.

"Oh. The patronus charm. Interesting piece of magic. I have read all about it, but I still don't understand one thing." said Harry conversationally.

"I fathom you don't. It's a very complicated spell." said the Headmaster with a chuckle.

"Oh no, I understand the charm itself and the theory behind it. It's just that I don't understand why do we have to wait until seventh year to learn it." said Harry, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Well, it is a very difficult piece of magic to perform. There are a lot of wizards that are of age, and they haven't mastered the spell at all. That is why students at Hogwarts don't get to learn it up until their seventh year." answered the headmaster patiently.

"Yes, but have you ever asked yourself why is it proving so difficult to cast? From what I could discern from the theory, it's all about happiness. And all first years are happy. I mean, we have just gotten through a milestone in our life, we had been accepted in Hogwarts, we have made new friends, had a most wonderful feast, we don't even have homework yet… what's not to be happy about being a first year?" said Harry, and the headmaster slowed down to a stop, his brow creased, deep in thought.

"I think you're on to something here Harry. On to something big." he mumbled, his eyes twinkling at the possibilities, before he remembered that he needed to be less endearing to the young boy in front of him. After all, the boy was in for a detention at least. So he continued walking until they reached the gargoyle that guarded his office.

"Lemon drops." the headmaster intoned and Harry smiled as the gargoyle slid aside. All the memories didn't feel real until he saw Dumbledore use the familiar password to open the familiar doorway to the familiar office. This was it. When he had been distracting the headmaster with one of his formerly proved theories, another part of his mind had furiously worked in making a bogus story and falsifying memories in the outer parts of his mind to back it up. He didn't think that the Albus would steep so low to use Legilimency on a wee little first year, but Harry knew that Albus knew that Harry wasn't just _any_ ordinary first year. Too many things, although subtle, just didn't add up. And if the headmaster was good at anything, it was being subtle and detecting subtleties. After all, the man stringed up the theory about Voldemort's horcruxes from nothing but a few vague memories and a pierced and half ripped up diary.

Dumbledore opened the door to his office and walked through without a pause, Harry right on his heels. He quietly closed the door behind him, and when he turned around he was embraced in a tight hug. He hugged his mother back as she continued to hold him, trying to soothe the woman through her first of many Harry Potter induced traumas. Mothers live a tough life, and he knew better than anyone, as he was practically the mother of all of Great Britain ever since he was born.

"Oh, baby, I'm so glad they found you!" breathed out his mother quietly, although to Harry it seemed like a roar of a dragon. Not that he was afraid of a mere dragon, mind you. Maybe a Golden one.

"Erm… Actually, no one found me, per se. I found my own way back to my common room." said Harry. Suddenly his mother unglued herself from him, probably because she just remembered exactly how angry she was with him. And Harry knew what was coming.

"Harry James Potter," his mother said in an angry whisper, and Harry knew that since she used his full name without even shouting. "Is this the way you're going to make me proud of yourself? Is this the way you'll become the next best thing since Merlin himself? If you do this kind of thing one more time, you will be grounded for the rest of your life." she continued with the same tone. A tiny part of Harry was actually scared that that might happen; a bigger part of him was regretting that he had to put his mother through all the worry and fear; but a huge part of him was actually amused by the thought of his mother grounding him. He could rip away any wards that she could place to keep him grounded in a second. He would have to be careful in the future, because it seemed that he had overestimated the shortness of his mother's temper - a mistake on his part that would not happen again. He decided it was time to retaliate with something a bit stronger than he planned.

"Alright mother. I'm sorry I got lost." said Harry, his head down, looking every bit of remorseful. All though his words were lies, the feeling was genuine. He was sorry that he fell unconscious and stayed unconscious for some twenty odd hours, but he hadn't planned on it. Just like the Harry in his manufactured story hadn't planned on getting lost in the huge castle that was Hogwarts.

"Lost?" his mother asked confusedly.

"Yes. I wanted to explore the castle a bit, just like dad and his friends did. However, I couldn't find my way back, so I wandered around the hallways." said Harry demurely.

"Oh, my sweet baby!" exclaimed Lily, switching personalities faster than a schizophrenic.

"When was the last time you ate? Where did you sleep?" asked his mother, now checking to see if he was too pale, or too red, or too thin, or too anything.

"I think I ate yesterday at lunchtime. And I slept in this dusty old classroom I found when I got too tired of walking around." lied Harry again, and suddenly he felt a legilimency probe dive into his outer shell of memories, searching for the truth. He noticed that the headmaster was peering intently at him with a look of indifference on his face, but soon his brow knit in confusion. He had obviously found the memories he was looking for, but there was no trace of a lie. And the Headmaster knew that there was at least one lie spoken by Harry. One could get lost in Hogwarts, true; but for more than twenty four hours? Hogwarts was big, but it wasn't the Sahara desert.

"Dottie!" exclaimed the headmaster suddenly, and a small elf appeared next to Harry.

"Yes Headmaster. How mays Dottie helps you?" asked the small elf.

"I need you to make a medium sized dinner for Mister Potter. I believe he is quite hungry." said the Headmaster, peering over his glasses at Harry, his face once again expressionless. Soon enough, half the headmaster's desk was cleared and then the various papers were replaced by dinner dishes of all kinds. Harry started wolfing down the food, as he was really hungry. After all, it was true that he hadn't eaten in more than twenty four hours. His mother irritatingly kept rubbing his back as he ate, as if he was traumatized or something.

"Alright Mister Potter. It's off to bed with you. I just hope you haven't relieved yourself somewhere I wouldn't even dare to." said the headmaster, as if in jest. Harry just laughed it off.

"Oh, no worries there, sir. I happened to run into a room full of chamberpots just in the last moment. I kept looking for a bathroom, but I couldn't find one. I guess I was lucky there." said Harry as he left with his mother to the Ravenclaw common room. She kept insisting on staying with him for the rest of the night while he was eating, and he had barely managed to dissuade her. She would only make sure that he went to bed and then she would be off home for the night.

A/N: Don't hesitate to **_REVIEW!!!_** Even just to chide me for slacking off.


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